The Harvester Arc 2: Echoes of the Past
by Jakathi
Summary: Soralis goes to egypt in search of a cult killing children. A direct sequal to shadowed past, shadowed future. Features characters from the mummy & mummy returns, cameo appearence from Touched by an Angel. Finally completed. Warning, flames will be mocked
1. Chapter 1 Echoes of the Past

Disclaimer. The only characters and places I own are mine. The rest belong to their respective owners. This is for FUN!  
  
Note: This is an ongoing series. The first story was Shadowed Past, Shadowed Future. This will actually be the second. I'm rewriting the entire series.  
  
  
  
Index of Terms:  
  
Egyptians thought that a person's soul came in four parts and would live on after death.  
  
The Ka is the non-physical copy of the person that needs and wants exactly what their living counter-part needs and wants. A person's Ka could leave its body when the person sleeps, but always needed to return to it.  
  
The Ba is the person's personality.  
  
The Akh is a combination of the Ba and Ka and is reunited at death in order to survive the underworld.  
  
The name and the person's shadow are the only things that remain on earth.  
  
(This is paraphrased from a book called the heart of the pharoh, in the mummy chronicles series.)  
  
Isisethren: Literal translation is One Who Returns. The Isisethren is one of Isis and Osiris' children. This creature is a benevolent guardian spirit that is occasionally born into a material form at key times in history. Normally depicted as a bipedal white tiger with the wings of an owl and nine tails. The Isisethren is closely associated with Anubis. Some believe that the Harvester of Souls is the true incarnation of this spirit. Soralis is the fourth Harvester of Souls. I made this up people!  
  
  
  
Clear as mud? On with the fic!  
  
  
  
  
  
Echoes of the Past  
  
The past is an echo of the present.  
  
From the Harvester's Journal  
  
Los Angeles California: 1935  
  
Soralis sighed as she raked back her hair, looking at the casual carnage with sorrow and anger burning in her heart. The basement was under a small office building, somewhere near the center of L.A. It was set up to look like some bizarre temple, complete with sacrificial alter.  
  
She grimaced as she sidestepped the bodies of the children and young women that littered the floor, obvious victims of whatever hellish rites that had gone on here. She dreaded what she had to do, but…  
  
Soralis swallowed thickly as she placed her hands on the alter and lowered her mental shields. Images slammed into her mind, rocking her back on her heels.  
  
Women and children screamed as foul priests tore their innocence away, then their lives. Chanting echoed around the room. Chants designed to harvest power, the power bought by the pain and death of helpless, harmless people.  
  
Soralis snarled as she memorized the faces of the priests, the faces of the guards. Darkness filled her vision, blocking out the sights of the basement.  
  
The darkness thinned, showing bright stars under a night sky. She was floating high above a desert, the moon's bright rays lancing across the night-blackened sands.  
  
Then she was hovering over the ruins of a once great city; one that tugged at the very essence of what made her the harvester. She instinctively knew that this city was never meant for the living; it only housed the dead. Words slithered into her mind from somewhere, somewhen. Hamanaptra. The City of the Dead. Sahara. Egypt. The book of life, the book of the dead…  
  
A pure gold book, engraved with strange symbols filled her mind, as did an ominous black book, engraved with similar symbols. Her sense of self rotated, facing the night sky. Stars glittered there, flashing brightly. A guide? She thought as the moon's rays blinded her.  
  
Soralis found herself back in the basement; her body slumped over the altar. She hastily jumped up, wincing as the inevitable reaction headache registered on her benumbed mind; it slowly faded as she made her way out of the basement.  
  
At the basement's entrance she turned. Her eyes glowed as she held out her hand, palm facing towards the altar. The room erupted in a gout of flame. She closed the basement door and ran out of the building.  
  
Soralis walked down the street as fire engines rushed to meet the blaze she created. The fire fighters would find nothing but a blackened husk of a building. When she returned to her motel room, she quickly booked a passage to Egypt on the next available flight. Over the centuries, the young immortal had learned to listen to her "dreams"…  
  
***  
  
Hamanaptra, Egypt: Four Weeks later.  
  
Among the fellahin and unnoticed like them, ignored like them, was a young Arabic man, barely past his teens. He tended to keep to himself, never speaking much except for a few occasional words.  
  
Under this illusion, Soralis had slipped into the dig; insinuating herself into the fellahin and began observing her erstwhile "employers". Most of them, she recognized from the vision she had in that basement.  
  
A sudden commotion made her turn. One of the foremen shouted, alerting the red-robed guards. She felt the stirrings of power around the foreman, lashing out at the one of the fellahin.  
  
The guards pounced on the targeted fellahin, who fought back. More guards swarmed over the man, eventually wearing him out with sheer numbers. The fellahin's turban was torn away, revealing a man with a bizarrely tattooed face.  
  
The expedition's leader, Audric Blackburn, dressed in slacks and tan shirt, pushed his way through the guards. The prisoner was on his knees; his arms twisted cruelly behind his back.  
  
Soralis saw that the man had taken a terrible beating, yet was still trying to fight back. One of the guards pressed a pistol to his head and he went still. She clinched her hands in frustration as one of the guards pulled the man's head back, letting the expedition's leader get a better look at the tattoos.  
  
Audric gently traced the tattoos and smiled as he realized who and what they had captured. "Medjai," he announced to the guards. His triumphant grin was echoed by the grins of his followers. "Take him back to Cairo. We'll deal with him later." He glared at the silent fellahin. "Get back to work!" he snarled. They rushed to obey.  
  
"Wonder what that was about?" One of the natives asked no one in particular.  
  
"Thank Allah it wasn't you that caught their attention," another worker admonished.  
  
Soralis bent to the work with a will, thinking that she had to get to Cairo before the next night. Otherwise, she figured glumly, that man might not make it. His capture had put a twist into her plans. She couldn't let him die; something told her he was very important.  
  
Soralis jerked and paled as pain lanced through her mind. People were dying. Then they heard the screams. Their work group rushed to another part of the dig, where a deep pit had been dug. Bugs, scarab beetles, were pouring out of the hole, being beaten back by flame-thrower wielding guards. Inside the pit she could see flailing arms, smell the stench of burning flesh.  
  
The older fellahin pulled her back; still thinking it was the young Arab man. "You can't do anything!" he shouted.  
  
"Scarabs! Fall back!" he shouted in Egyptian. They scrambled backwards, away from the pit.  
  
Audric and his coterie peered over the pit. "Floodlights!" he shouted. "Into that hole!" he grinned as the scarab beetles scattered as the bright lights burned into the hole. There, shining in the floodlights was the book.  
  
"Crane! There!" he pointed at the book. "Get it!"  
  
Soralis watched as the crane lowered, digging up the book and the rubble surrounding it. She winced as it dumped its contents well away from the pit. She and the rest of the fellahin cleared away the rubble. Audric and his cohorts watched impatiently as they finally exposed the book.  
  
Audric pushed the fellahin away in his eagerness to get his hands on the priceless artifact. As he pushed Soralis away, her hand brushed against the gold covers and her vision blurred. Something like an electric shock ran up her arm and into her body.  
  
She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her eyes. Audric glared at the fellahin who dared touch his book. The youth hastily took his hands away, mumbling an apology.  
  
For a brief moment, Audric met the man's eyes. Something incredibly old lurked under those eyes; something he knew wasn't completely human. The Arab lowered his eyes, breaking contact and the sudden insight slipped away from him.  
  
Audric looked at the bright gold book in his hands and grinned. When he looked up, the man was gone. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered. He had the Book of the Living and soon he would have its twin as well.  
  
***  
  
Soralis leaned against the wall of the ruined building that shielded her from the rest crowd near the pit she had just vacated. She let out a shaky breath. She had almost been exposed. Only quick thinking and deft mental manipulation on her part had saved her. She thanked the gods that the expedition leader wasn't telepathic or employed telepaths.  
  
She moaned as pain shook her. Images swam in her mind. Streets blurred around her as she swept through Cairo's slums. She was eventually drawn to the more prosperous section of the city. There, isolated from the other homes and situated on the bank of the Nile itself, was a massive villa with well-tended fields surrounding it. When she approached the main building, the view dipped alarmingly as she was drawn underground.  
  
In a large, dimly lit cellar a man was chained to a stone table. She recognized the fellahin by his weirdly tattooed face. He was battered and unconscious. Something must have woken him, for he raised his head, seeming to look at her. She turned around and was blinded by the bright light coming from the cellar entrance.  
  
Her sense of perception canted crazily and she found herself back at the ruins. Soralis swallowed thickly and slipped back to her tent. She threw her belongings together and stepped into the shadows cast by the lantern beside her pallet. The next morning, her fellow workers found the tent deserted as if no one hand ever slept there.  
  
***  
  
Ardeth Bey was forced towards a waiting car. He couldn't move properly and his muscles seemed strangely unresponsive. As they approached the car, one of the guards clapped a chloroform soaked cloth firmly over his nose and mouth. He crumpled to the ground and they bundled him into the waiting vehicle.  
  
When he woke, he found himself bound and chained to a wall in a large, poorly lit and ventilated cellar. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he could make out the shapes that lay scattered around the room.  
  
Ardeth identified whips, thumbscrews, a forge and a rack offhand. The rest of the devices were more exotic, but their function was clear. He swallowed bile. All the equipment looked like it had been used recently. Who are these people? He wondered.  
  
At the far end of the cellar was a set of stairs leading to the only door he could see. It opened and briefly lit the room. He winced. The light streaming down hurt his eyes.  
  
A woman, perhaps twenty years old with dark hair and blue eyes walked down the steps. She was dressed in a simple tunic and loose trousers. Behind her were a pair of black robed guards. Both of their skulls were shaved, save for a single, braided topknot.  
  
She unhurriedly crossed the room and stood before him. She smiled slightly as she traced the tattoos on his face. "You are strong to fight off the paralysis Jenday laid on you. Are all Medjai like you?" she asked innocently.  
  
Ardeth winced. A spell. It would explain how those guards had overcome him so easily. Was she a witch as well? This girl did not seem to belong here.  
  
"Who are you?" he demanded.  
  
She laughed delightedly. "Proud aren't you?" she asked. "Very well. My name is Elise Blackburn. I am Audric Blackburn's daughter."  
  
"Let me go. I have done nothing to you!" he said softly, reasonably.  
  
She grinned. But there was nothing innocent about that grin. "You are Medjai. You have been guarding the books of life and death for centuries. We know that the book of life has a passage that can retrieve its twin if it is lost. Unfortunately, the passage has been encoded. We cannot translate it. My lord father believes that you might be able to translate it for us."  
  
He gazed at her steadily. "I am sorry. I don't know what you are talking about. I know of no such passage. I am neither a priest nor a sorcerer." He replied truthfully.  
  
Elise smiled nastily. "I wish I could believe you." She turned to the two waiting guards.  
  
"Gentlemen, please teach this Med-jai, it is not nice to lie." They grinned as each of them took a metal pipe from the far wall and converged on him.  
  
***  
  
Soralis gazed at the villa from the vantage of another building some distance away. First rescue the man; then get out alive. No problem. She thought sarcastically as she saw the well-armed guards and the heavy wards surrounding the place. She grinned. It was just the sort of place she liked to gate crash.  
  
There was no way she could get into that place as she was now. She wondered what would get her through the gate and began to smile slowly. No one looked at fellahin, especially female servants. She closed her eyes. Her body blurred. When she was done, she looked like an Arabic woman, neither young nor old, but striking. She wanted the guards to discount her, to let her through.  
  
As she approached the gate, one of the guards halted her. "What are you here for?" he demanded.  
  
Soralis bowed her head. "Please, I am late for work. I need the money, my mother is ill…" she began, projecting an aura of innocence, of trust.  
  
The elder guard grinned at the other. "Search her, then let her through." He decided. "We always have room for another servant, especially one as pretty as this." He said as he laughingly raised her head with one finger.  
  
She gritted her teeth as they groped her, promising herself that she would personally cast a rather nasty curse on them before they left. Finally, with real reluctance, they let her go on her way. She was just grateful they decided not to rape her. Having to kill the bastards would definitely scupper the whole rescue.  
  
***  
  
He hurt. He couldn't remember a time in which he had hurt so much. Alone in the darkness of the cellar, he wondered what his people were doing. Would they attempt a rescue? He laughed hollowly. They would if they knew where to look.  
  
During the day and night he had been held in the cellar; he had not been fed, nor given any water. He had been left chained to the stone table where they had left off torturing him a few hours before. He was naked, his clothing tossed carelessly to one side. He was cold and filthy; his body laced with bruises, bloody welts and burns.  
  
His wrists had been rubbed raw and his hand… He remembered the rod searing the palm of his hand and remembered Elise closing his hand into a tight fist around it. When she removed the hot metal tong, bits of his own flesh had come off with it. He shuddered, closing his eyes against the memory. He hoped they would get tired of this and kill him soon. He really didn't know how much longer he could hold out.  
  
***  
  
"He's bloody stubborn." Elise snarled as she turned towards her father. "I couldn't get anything out of him, when are they going to deliver the sodium pentathol?" she demanded angrily.  
  
"Soon," Audric promised his daughter. He had never seen her so upset. "Until then, you may as well enjoy yourself." He stroked her cheek lovingly. "Break him. Then use his akh to feed your pets."  
  
She smiled, taking his hand. Together they walked out of the office.  
  
***  
  
Soralis ducked into a dark alcove as Audric Blackburn and a young woman strode past her. His arm was around her waist and they seemed related somehow. She shuddered in revulsion as they walked by. She could literally taste the evil that hung around them.  
  
The darkness in the alcove drew close around her and faint, inaudible whispers echoed in her mind. Cold wind from some unseen source ruffled her hair and her eyes widened as something pushed her out of the alcove. Now, she could feel the unmistakable presence of the undead surrounding her. It was odd that she didn't feel that presence before.  
  
The shadows under the paintings tables and sculptures that lined the walls writhed, boiled like something alive. As she neared a table, the shadows blurred into a human seeming and melted into her shadow. Other shadowy figures stretched out from the paintings and wall fixtures, pointing to the way the Audric and the woman had just come from.  
  
As she walked down the wall, more shadows moved of their own volition; touching her as she past them, some merging with the shadow she cast on the floor. It was an unnerving experience; never had she seen anything like this. Yet they did not feel evil, or at all menacing. Somehow, she felt these things were on her side.  
  
The living shadows led her down into a wine cellar. Racks of bottled wine lay cooling in neat rows, save for one hugging the far wall. This was strange. From what little she knew about wine, most people left the racks free standing in order to allow air to circulate between the bottles. So this rack was suspect.  
  
She examined the odd rack, noticing that most of the bottles were either empty or filled with vinegar. She began to systematically pull each bottle, seeing if it provoked a reaction. On the third row down, she got lucky. The bottle lifted and she heard something click loudly. She pulled the rack and it swung slowly towards her.  
  
***  
  
Ardeth had been dozing fitfully when the door opened, letting in light. He moaned softly. No, no, no… he thought hazily as he heard soft footsteps nearing him. He opened his eyes and was utterly surprised to see a young Arabic woman bending over him, examining the shackles that bound him to the table.  
  
"Who are you?" He asked in Arabic.  
  
"An enemy of your enemy." She replied in English, waving her hand over her face. As she did so, her body blurred.  
  
Ardeth blinked. The Arab girl vanished, only to be replaced by a tall woman with white hair and pale gold eyes. She was dressed in loose clothing bound firmly at the ankle and wrist. Strapped to her back was some sort of sword and pistols hung from her sashed waist.  
  
"My name is Soralis." She said as she gently touched his burned hand. He winced as she did so. "Shit… They worked you over good." She said.  
  
"Free me or kill me," he whispered.  
  
Soralis laughed lightly. "Didn't go to all this trouble just to paint the walls with your entrails. This is a jail break." She said as a metallic claw popped out from between the knuckles of one hand. His eyes widened in shock.  
  
"Um, don't move please. I don't want to be taking your wrist off as well as the shackles." She quipped as she gently inserted the claw between the shackle and his wrist. With a quick twist, the claw went through the iron as easily as if she were cutting through butter with a dull knife. She repeated the process with the other bindings, freeing him. She tossed him his clothes and turned her back while he dressed. He was grateful for the courtesy; though by the time he was finished, he was sweating with the effort and pain it caused. She turned around.  
  
"Can you make it?" she asked seriously.  
  
"With help, yes." He looked at her. "What manner of creature are you?" he demanded.  
  
She grinned at him. "Hell if I know. Would you rather stay here or go with me? Your hosts are far less human than I." She told him.  
  
He had to concede her that. "Looks like I don't have much choice," she nodded agreement and handed him one of her pistols. Together they ran up the steps and out into the wine cellar above.  
  
***  
  
The two fugitives cautiously stepped into the wine cellar. This time, the darkness was empty of whatever it was that had been attracted to her. They heard voices coming from the hallway outside the cellar and froze.  
  
Ardeth tensed. Those voices belonged to the guards who had beaten and tortured him under Elise's orders. Soralis raised her finger to her lips and drew him behind the nearest wine rack.  
  
Elise stopped short as she saw the entrance to the torture chamber ajar. "Somebody's been here." She snarled as the guards rushed into the chamber.  
  
"He's gone!" one of the guards shouted.  
  
Soralis' eyes glowed and the wine rack slammed shut. Elise whirled around, searching the area. "Come on out Medjai. You can't escape." She hissed as she held out her hands.  
  
"If you don't come out, I'll let my pets eat your soul." She said conversationally as hot wind began to blow around her.  
  
Ardeth raised his pistol, aiming through the wine bottles. He pulled the trigger, shooting the woman in the shoulder. She fell back with a hoarse cry and the wind abruptly stopped. He stood up and walked over to the fallen woman, with Soralis trailing behind him.  
  
"Nice shot," Soralis commented. Elise had been knocked out when she had fallen to the ground.  
  
"I was aiming for her head." He replied as he pointed his gun at Elise.  
  
She bent over to check to see if the girl was still alive. She sighed as she felt the pulse beat steadily under her fingers. "She alive?" he asked.  
  
"Yes." Soralis winced as she picked up the memories of the girl. They were ugly. "Come on, let's get out of here." She told him shortly.  
  
"What about her?" he asked.  
  
"Leave her." Soralis said. Ardeth sighed and reluctantly turned away from his tormenter.  
  
Together they snuck out of the cellar and into the house proper.  
  
***  
  
They were lucky. Or perhaps something was aiding them. Every so often, Soralis caught a glimpse of shadows moving, where they should have been stationary. Ardeth glanced at her and mouthed I know. She relaxed perceptively. At least she wasn't loosing her mind.  
  
Maybe it's just some Egyptian thing. Soralis shrugged inwardly.  
  
They heard voices again. They ducked into a room and watched as the servants walked past, carrying some empty trays. "We're pressing our luck," Ardeth whispered when they had gone.  
  
"I know. You okay?" she asked as he leaned against the wall.  
  
He shook his head. He had to get help soon. Otherwise. "I will be," he answered.  
  
***  
  
They made it outside without being spotted. By this time, Soralis was half- supporting Ardeth as they went from one hiding place to another. Soralis peered out of the window of the shed they were hiding in. She could see the gate. "Not too much further," she said softly, turning to him.  
  
"I'm slowing you down." Ardeth managed.  
  
"I didn't go to all this trouble just to abandon you." She told him.  
  
"So this is what you do for a living?" he asked, half-jokingly as his vision blurred in and out of focus. Concussion? He thought hazily. Wonderful…  
  
"Among other things," she replied vaguely.  
  
"Do you know of anyone nearby who can hide us while you recover? The only person I know is half-way across town." She knelt down, looking at his eyes. "I don't think you can travel that far,"  
  
"The O'Connells. They have a home near here." He shook his head, trying to clear it and gave her the directions.  
  
Soralis grimaced, weighing her options. "Damn…." She muttered. "I'm going to get a lot of grief over this…" she said as she helped Ardeth up.  
  
"Brace yourself," She told him. "We're going to sidestep reality for a bit. First time is always worst." She drew him into the shadows. They swallowed them with an audible pop of rushing air. 


	2. Chapter 2 Shadows

Shadows  
  
Everything is connected.  
  
From the Harvester's Journal  
  
Ardeth felt like he was on fire and freezing at the same time. He struggled in Soralis' grip. "Easy. Relax. The shift between planes is always a shock. Breathe." Soralis' voice was as much in his mind as falling on his ears.  
  
"Where?" he managed. They appeared to be in some sort of luminous mist or fog. He could occasionally glimpse some sort of grayish moor in the distance.  
  
"We are in the border region that separates my realm from yours. I can't take you all the way in without breaking the rules. As it is, I'm bending them a lot by exposing you to the Shadow Realm." Soralis replied as she helped him walk through the mists.  
  
Ardeth looked at his companion. He could feel himself fading in and out of consciousness. "Is it dangerous?" he asked groggily.  
  
"Normally yes. In your condition it could be fatal. We're almost there." she said. "Comforting, aren't I?"  
  
"It's ten miles to the O'Connell's!" he exclaimed. "We can't…" he shook his head, trying to clear it.  
  
"Border traveling is very quick…" Soralis replied as the fog thickened around them.  
  
Ardeth stumbled as they re-entered the earth realm. The events of the past few days finally caught up with him and he passed out. Soralis half-fell with him as he crumpled to the ground. She pounded on the door with one fist.  
  
"Open up! Please!" she shouted hoarsely as she checked Ardeth's pulse. It was weak, but steady. She needed to get him to someplace safe before she succumbed to her own inevitable reaction back-lash.  
  
The door opened, revealing an Arabic woman in a simple dress. She looked down at the pair in shock. She began shouting in Arabic as she helped Soralis drag the fallen Medjai into the house.  
  
The room was spinning as she helped the woman get Ardeth on the bed. She cursed softly as her legs gave out from beneath her. The woman turned and caught her before she hit the floor.  
  
***  
  
The young Egyptian woman stared at the ceiling of the small, dark room. The only light flickered from torches outside the small barred window of the door to her cell. She was filthy with tangled hair and torn, bloodied clothing. The pallet she was lying on was equally filthy. In one corner of the room was an open hole. The smell coming from it identified its purpose. Every now and then she could hear screams echoing down the corridor outside her cell.  
  
The cell was suddenly plunged in darkness and she turned, seeing a face framed in the small window of the cell door. "Ah-tesu-na," she hissed. The high priestess of Akethros, the god of torments.  
  
"Hathor your time grows short. By the time the Medjai find you, you will belong to my lord." Ah-tesu-na laughed.  
  
"You bore me," Hathor replied. "Kill me and it won't be the Medjai you should worry about. It will be the combined might of Osiris and Isis you face."  
  
Ah-tesu-na laughed nastily. "You won't have to worry about that Isisethren." She hissed, using Hathor's true name. She turned away. "Guards!"  
  
***  
  
Soralis jerked awake. She felt or rather sensed that she was not alone in the room. "Who's there?" she whispered hoarsely.  
  
A figure moved from out of the shadows. It was a man dressed in dark robes. Like the other man she rescued, he had a bizarrely tattooed face.  
  
"You are in a guest room of the O'Connell residence. When you appeared with our leader on their doorstep; the house sitter alerted us. I am Imad ben Al Hakeem."  
  
The memories of the past few weeks flooded into her mind. "The man I rescued, how is he?" she asked.  
  
"Sleeping. You have been in a coma for three days." The man replied. "Can you tell us how you came to rescue our leader and who you are?"  
  
She shook her head. Three days. The price for taking the man through the Shadow Realm border was high indeed. She felt drained, exhausted. She sighed and told the man her name and that she was a clairvoyant demon hunter with some magical skills who had been tracking a particularly nasty cult of demon worshipers to Hamanaptra. She had witnessed the cultists kidnap Ardeth Bey and decided to do something about it.  
  
Imad was skeptical. He figured that she wasn't telling him everything, but thought that she wasn't lying about what she had told him. For now, he decided to accept her story. After all, she couldn't go anywhere at the moment.  
  
"Do you need anything?" he asked.  
  
She sighed in relief. He bought it. "Some food and water would be wonderful."  
  
He smiled. "I shall see to it. The lavatory and bathing faculties are through that door." He indicated one of the doors to her left. She returned the smile and he left the room.  
  
Soralis gritted her teeth and swung her legs over the bed, feeling each muscle protest. She slowly made her way to the bathroom.  
  
***  
  
After Soralis had told them the villa's location, a group of Medjai had descended on the place, only to find it abandoned. The servants claimed that the Blackburns' and their retainers had left days ago. The Medjai searched the premises, finding nothing.  
  
Even the torture chamber had been cleared, though if one knew what they were looking for, they could see the signs of its existence. The Medjai returned empty handed and rather irritated.  
  
"She is not telling us everything Haydar. I am sure of it." Imad stated firmly. Haydar was the eldest of the Medjai commanders, who sat around the O'Connell's kitchen table.  
  
"The place stank of dark magic, sayadi," Sakir told them softly. He had been one of the ones who had searched the place. Sakir had the ability to sense both magic and evil. "I find it difficult to believe that a demon hunter could simply walk into that villa and then walk out of it with an injured man in tow without bringing the whole place down on them."  
  
Another man, Tahir spoke up. "When the house sitter cleaned her up, she found a bracelet on her wrist that would not come off. It had strange markings on it and she alerted us to it." He paused. "The bracelet is very old."  
  
"Have the wise men been able to translate these markings?" Imad asked softly.  
  
"No," Tahir replied.  
  
Haydar looked at the assembled commanders. "Whatever, whoever she is, she rescued our leader for no apparent gain and at great personal risk to herself. She put herself at our mercy and frankly no evil sorceress or priestess would do that." He smiled. "In her place I would be very careful about revealing too much about myself."  
  
Imad sighed in agreement. Her behavior was certainly cagey, but Haydar was right. He took that as a cue to switch subjects.  
  
***  
  
Ardeth strained against the iron shackles binding him to the table. The chamber was lit with pale, green witch-light and he could smell the hot, acrid scent of the forge. Elise was bending over it, checking the heat of the ornate tongs and pokers she had placed in it earlier.  
  
For the past five hours he had been questioned over and over again about Hamanaptra and about the book of life. When he refused to answer her, she ordered the guards to beat him. This they did with both skill and precision. When that failed to illicit answers from him, she had him stripped and then chained to the stone table in the center of the room.  
  
Elise had then proceeded to whip him with a short, metal studded strap each time he refused to answer her. By the time she had grown bored with that amusement, bloody welts and deep cuts covered his chest and arms. It had taken a great effort on his part not to cry out, to beg her to stop. Ardeth winced as Elise gently licked the sweat off of his forehead.  
  
"You could make it easier on yourself if you told me what I wished to know." She told him softly as she ran a finger down his cheek. Ardeth turned his head away from her and gazed at the wall silently.  
  
"It's a pity you won't cooperate. I could make it worth your while." She gripped his chin and turned his face towards her. He glared at her wordlessly.  
  
She bent down and pressed her lips to his. Ardeth gritted his teeth as he felt her tongue slip between his lips. She stood up and smiled down at him. "Reconsider please. You really don't want this to escalate now do you?" she asked him as the guards handed her an ornate rod that was glowing with heat.  
  
He screamed as she brought it down on his hand and then closed the hand around the metal rod.  
  
***  
  
Ardeth Bey thrashed as he woke up. He found himself in a comfortable, English styled bedroom with an open window, which let in birdsong and a fresh breeze. He had been cleaned up and his wounds had been attended to. He really didn't want to move at the moment.  
  
"Not surprising," A soft, female voice told him. "Being beat to shit always does that to me."  
  
He swiveled his head and found the woman, Soralis sitting in a chair beside his bed. "You can read minds." He managed.  
  
Soralis laughed lightly as she handed him a glass of water. He drank it down slowly. "Generally only surface thoughts. It's rather rude to go poking about in another's mind without permission and it can be dangerous too."  
  
He grimaced. "I can understand that." He blinked. She had been speaking in Arabic.  
  
"Where did you learn Arabic?" he asked curiously.  
  
Soralis shrugged. "I did a favor for a very powerful entity some time ago and he gave me the ability to comprehend any and all languages in return for that favor." A pained expression flickered across her face. "I'd rather not talk about it. I still get nightmares from that little escapade."  
  
"Oh," he replied.  
  
"If you need to relieve yourself the faculties are over there," she said as she pointed to a door on his left.  
  
"Thank you," he said seriously. "I believe I owe you my life."  
  
She smiled at him. "You'll probably have a number of opportunities to repay me. I tend to attract evil and powerful entities."  
  
"You are rather comforting." He told her dryly.  
  
Soralis laughed.  
  
***  
  
As soon as Audric Blackburn found his daughter unconscious and bleeding from a gunshot wound in the wine cellar and Ardeth Bey missing, he alerted the guards who searched the villa and the grounds for the fugitive. They found nothing.  
  
Audric hastily ordered his people to pack up; knowing that as soon as Ardeth Bey reached his people, they would descend on the villa in force. They fled to a little town just outside of Cairo where he had another residence. There, Elise was attended to.  
  
Audric watched as the doctor's pulled the bullet out of his daughter's shoulder and seethed. Ardeth Bey would suffer for his transgression; Audric swore to himself and whoever freed him would share his fate.  
  
The doctor finished patching the wound and turned to Audric Blackburn. "Make sure that the dressing is changed twice a day and give her plenty of food, water and rest. I suggest no strenuous activity for at least a week. Then, have her exercise the shoulder." He gave him a list of recommended exercises. The doctor frowned.  
  
"Yes?" Audric asked.  
  
"It's rather strange. The bullet I pulled out of your daughter's shoulder was pure silver." He handed Audric the bullet in question.  
  
Audric examined the bullet carefully. Though deformed by the heat and impact, it was still a beautiful example of its kind. He could still make out some sort of etching, runes maybe, on the surface of the bullet. He would definitely look into this. Only a few gunsmiths in the world could make something like this.  
  
"Father?" Elise whispered.  
  
He hurried to her bedside and bent down. "Shhh. Don't speak."  
  
"Hathor. The Isisethren… She has returned." Elise closed her eyes briefly and gazed at her father solemnly. "If she reunites with her twin, all of our plans will be destroyed."  
  
Audric bowed his head. "Are you sure?" he asked.  
  
"I recognized her spirit." Elise whispered.  
  
"Ahhh…" he touched his daughter's cheek. "Rest. I'll deal with it." Elise closed her eyes and fell into a troubled slumber. 


	3. Chapter 3 Visions and Dreams

Visions and Dreams  
  
Sometimes, dreams can tell you something about yourself, about your past. And other times, they are only dreams.  
  
From the Harvester's Journal  
  
  
  
Soralis shifted restlessly in her sleep. The Medjai bodyguards who watched her from the shadows were not alone and they didn't like it much. All around them, the darkness seemed alive with half-glimpsed shapes, odd movements that they couldn't dismiss as normal. Yet when they turned around to face those intruders, they saw nothing. Whatever these things were, they caused no harm, save for completely unnerving normally fearless warriors.  
  
***  
  
Soralis could hear screaming. She could hear the screams of thousands of souls, souls who could never rest, who had been denied peace. Bleak despair filled the place like a toxic cloud. She could feel another presence walking beside her.  
  
A man, or what appeared to be a man with a jackal head was matching her stride for stride. "It disturbs you doesn't it?" the jackal headed man asked.  
  
Soralis nodded. "Yes. Why must you do this?" she asked softly.  
  
"They do it to themselves." The jackal headed man replied cryptically. "Their own actions take them to this place; most were warned about the consequences of those actions. They ignored them and now suffer for their shortsightedness."  
  
"Then why am I here?" she demanded.  
  
The jackal headed man smiled. "Sometimes, even the damned can be redeemed." He looked at her. "You are the tool for that redemption, among other things." He said as he led her down twisting paths that ultimately led nowhere. He stopped short as the paths diverged.  
  
"That path is one you must take alone. I will wait for you here."  
  
Soralis took a step on the path as she did, there was a howl of rage and something huge slammed into her. She heard an answering shout from the jackal-man and the mists surrounding the path enveloped her before the pain could register.  
  
***  
  
Soralis blinked as she opened her eyes. "That was weird," she muttered. It was morning. Whatever it was that possessed the shadows around her had faded away as the sun rose; much to the relief of the Medjai Ardeth had ordered to stand guard outside her door. As she got ready for the day, the guards were rotated.  
  
"Sayadi, we were not alone during the night." The senior guard reported to Ardeth. He didn't look surprised as the guard related what had gone on during his watch.  
  
Ardeth frowned thoughtfully as the Medjai healer carefully changed the bandages on the burns and cuts, some of which were quite severe. "You were lucky they didn't have you any longer than they did." The healer, an old woman, remarked as she gently wrapped a bandage slathered with some sort of ointment around his burned hand.  
  
"The lady is more than she says she is." The old woman; his grandmother said softly.  
  
"What do you know of this?" Ardeth asked curiously. It was rare that his grandmother spoke up about such things.  
  
"Old legends, legends of a group of sorcerers and fighters sworn to maintain a balance between good and evil, law and chaos." The woman shrugged. "I thought they were folk tales."  
  
"Folk tales usually have a grain of truth in them good doctor." Soralis remarked as she walked into Ardeth's room.  
  
"You are a Shadowlord," the woman replied.  
  
Soralis inclined her head. "Yes and no, I have no idea what those shadow- things are. I've never run across them, but then, I've never set foot on Egyptian soil before this."  
  
"What are you two talking about?" Ardeth said irritably.  
  
Soralis sat down. "Ages ago, there was a long and bloody war between heaven and hell. This war almost tore the universe apart. It was god against god, demon against demon. When it was over, thousands of worlds that once were healthy, livable places like the Earth were destroyed. A group of mortals and immortals, both good and evil swore that this would never happen again. They formed a region between heaven and hell and separate from the earth realms, called the Shadow Realm. This place would be a meeting ground between light and dark, law and chaos." She paused, letting this information sink in.  
  
"The lords of heaven and hell set this group up as the titular rulers of this new Realm. They called themselves the Shadowlords and it was decided that neither the lords of light or darkness would have complete domain over them." Soralis got up and looked through the window.  
  
"We are sworn to keep a balance between good and evil. When there is no balance, chaos and evil rule and the universe starts to unravel."  
  
"Then why are you here?" Ardeth asked. "This isn't something that will shatter the universe, though it is serious."  
  
Soralis looked at him. "I am also the Harvester of Souls." She said baldly.  
  
The entire room quieted. "Isisethren," Ardeth whispered. "You are the Isisethren."  
  
This time it was Soralis' turn to look confused. "What?" she asked.  
  
Ardeth smiled lightly. "I believe it is time for us both to tell each other everything we both know otherwise, we may wind up loosing it all." He remarked and began to explain.  
  
***  
  
Audric knelt before the altar. He was dressed only in a loincloth. The room shimmered with the heat of the fire he had lit and the walls of the stone room were lined with candles.  
  
As he prayed, the air grew heavy. He could hear the moans and screams of innocent souls in torment, in pain. "What is your will, my lord?" Audric asked softly.  
  
"Her return has been foretold in stone and in stars. This time, she will not be so easy to take. The blood of the eastern gods runs through her veins and shadows shield her…" the voice rumbled. "Her name means death and sorrow to the enemies of The Powers That Be."  
  
Audric shivered. "What can we do about this?" he asked.  
  
"Take that which is most precious to her; her love, the son she would have raised and her brother. She will be ours in order to safe guard their souls." He laughed. "She is the key to the book of the dead."  
  
Audric's eyes glinted. "And after we retrieve what is ours?"  
  
"Wipe them out and deliver her to me."  
  
The man bowed his head. "Yes lord Akethros," he whispered.  
  
***  
  
Imhotep buried his face in his arms, crying softly. Everything, everything he had believed in lay crumbled in ruins at his feet. He had given everything for the woman he loved: his life, his honor and his soul. In return, she betrayed him, valuing her own life over his.  
  
The room he was in had little in the ways of comfort. Only a hard pallet and a ratty blanket protected him from the room's chill. But then, he was already dead, so it hardly mattered one way or another.  
  
A face glared at him through the barred window of his cell. He raised his head and saw the face of his tormenter. A twisted, evil mirror image of him gazed through the window bars as the thing opened the cell door and strode in.  
  
The thing bent down, still smiling. "Too bad. Love is very fleeting isn't it brother?" the thing quipped.  
  
"Why don't you just kill me now and get it over with?" Imhotep demanded angrily.  
  
The creature laughed. "You're already dead. Remember? The offer still stands. Join my master and you will have all the power and revenge you've ever dreamed of."  
  
Imhotep pressed himself against the wall. "No. I may be damned, but I will never willingly serve Akethros."  
  
"Suit yourself," the creature smiled slightly and turned away. "Oh, the Isisethren has been reborn. Perhaps you'll be sharing a cell with her soon. I might be able to arrange it."  
  
Imhotep closed his eyes. "No…" he raced to the door, only to have it slam shut in his face.  
  
"Have a nice day." The creature laughed mockingly as it locked the door behind it.  
  
"You son of a whore!" Imhotep screamed at it.  
  
The creature glanced back at Imhotep and pain lanced through his body, bringing him to his knees. "That wasn't nice." It said softly.  
  
Imhotep bit his lip as he leaned his forehead against the wooden door. The creature giggled as it left him in pain. Finally, long after the thing had left, he was released from the torment and Imhotep sagged to the ground. "Remember, Hathor," he whispered. "Please, remember." 


	4. Chapter 4 Balancing Act

Balancing Act  
  
There is always a price to immortality.  
  
From The Harvester's Journal  
  
As soon as Ardeth could travel, they removed themselves from the O'Connell residence. They knew that it was only a matter of time before someone made a chance remark to someone they shouldn't and bring the entire cult of Akethros down about their ears.  
  
Soralis frowned as she scanned the horizon. They were a couple of days away from Hamanaptra and camped in a small, ruined city. She could count at least one hundred tents, and sense about two hundred or so individuals in the camp at any one time.  
  
At Ardeth's insistence, she had dressed like they did, to confuse any scrying attempts by their enemies and the more mundane aerial surveillance.  
  
She grimaced as Ardeth strode up to her. "Are you alright?" he asked.  
  
"Should be asking the same of you." She retorted. "Yeah. Just feeling itchy." She said. "Like something I should be doing, or am missing."  
  
"They may try to take Hamanaptra." She said thoughtfully, echoing his thoughts. "But I'm not sure that's what they're going to do."  
  
"I hate it when you do that." He muttered.  
  
"Oh?" she asked  
  
"Reading my mind. It's very… Disconcerting." Ardeth told her dryly.  
  
She started to laugh, but suddenly lost all motor ability as pain seized her. She crumpled and was caught by a surprised Ardeth before she hit the ground.  
  
She was floating high above the Sahara desert; the rising sun was at her back as she stood atop the Great Pyramid. The view canted crazily as she was pushed, ever pushed westward. She could feel herself falling into a rocky valley with the Great Pyramid in sharp relief behind her.  
  
She felt herself being pushed down the valley until it reached a dead end, in what appeared to be a rock-fall. Instead, whatever it was behind her pushed her through the rock fall and into a great cavern. In the center of the cavern was a throne made of black marble.  
  
Sitting In the throne was a powerfully built man in the robes of an Egyptian king. On his right side was a balance. He looked at her in surprise and shock.  
  
"Isisethren…." He murmured. Bright white light swamped her.  
  
She found herself lying flat on her back, in her own tent. Ardeth and his grandmother were bending over her.  
  
"Shoo!" she snapped. "I need light Ardeth. You are blocking me!" she said and he moved out of her way abashed.  
  
"I'm alright…" she tried, but it came out as a croak.  
  
The old woman sighed as she tilted a glass of water to Soralis' mouth and helped her drink it down. "What happened?" she asked.  
  
"A vision. They can take me rather strongly." Soralis replied shakily and told them what she saw. "How long was I out?" she asked.  
  
"You were unconscious for five hours." Ardeth replied absently. "That man might be Osiris. It would fit with what we know about you." Ardeth said thoughtfully.  
  
"Five hours?" Soralis sighed. "I think, maybe we should go there. To that valley I mean. That's what I need to do." She tried to get up, but was pushed down by both the old woman and Ardeth.  
  
"Sleep. I think Osiris can wait a day longer to see you." Ardeth said firmly. "I don't want you falling out of your saddle halfway there."  
  
She laughed lightly, feeling drained and exhausted from the vision and the pain it had caused her. "I'm gonna kick the teeth in to whoever is giving me these damned visions."  
  
"Right." Ardeth nodded. "Sleep."  
  
***  
  
Osiris looked at the wavering scene before him. His daughter and her Medjai companions were traveling towards his valley, the entrance to his realm. He scowled, sensing the mark of several other deities intertwined in his daughter's aura.  
  
For thousands of years, the Harvester had been an Egyptian entity, never straying far from Egypt itself. Yet, since Akethros' damned cultists had murdered her, her path had diverged from its chosen course.  
  
He clearly saw her past, saw the events that led her to becoming immortal, her sojourn in hell and in outland. He saw her grow up into a powerful Shadowlord. That surprised him. Surely the lords of the Shadow Realm recognized her for what she was; yet they accepted her. He laughed hollowly. It was a very clever move on their part.  
  
"You can't run her life my lord. She has other responsibilities now." Osiris glared at the jackal headed man beside him.  
  
"That isn't my intention. She needs to know who she is Anubis," Osiris replied. "And what that entails. The Jade Emperor doesn't know everything about the Harvester. And what he doesn't know, could kill her."  
  
"Agreed," Anubis said. "Although, her choice in companions leaves much to be desired."  
  
Osiris laughed. "You're just pissed because those mortals survived your soldiers attempts to eradicate them." He said, indicating Ardeth Bey and his people.  
  
"Don't start." Anubis shot back.  
  
***  
  
Soralis gazed at the valley. It was forbidding, empty of life. Her horse shook its head nervously, not liking whatever it sensed down there. She could feel its fear and the fear of its brothers and sisters.  
  
"The horses aren't going into that valley." She said softly as one of the Medjai tried to spur his horse down the trail leading into the valley. The horse was having none of it. It reared, almost dumping its riding in the dirt.  
  
Ardeth nodded. "I'm going with you." He said softly. She looked at him sharply.  
  
"You don't have to," she replied.  
  
He shrugged. "I know," he gave the orders to make camp at the valley's rim. They made their way into the valley as the sun rose over the Great Pyramid.  
  
***  
  
Ardeth and Soralis stood at the foot of the rock-fall. Both felt a strange, tingling sensation; it was as if the area were supercharged with electricity.  
  
"What the hell is that?" Ardeth demanded softly. "It feels like," he trailed off as he looked at his companion. Soralis' eyes had been swallowed by a pale gold radiance. Her hand shimmered as it neared the rock-fall. She pulled it back and reality snapped back into place.  
  
Soralis blinked several times; her eyes slowly returning to normal. "It is a portal of some kind. The rock-fall, the entire valley is an illusion." She stated calmly. Her voice was strange, as if it echoed across a great distance.  
  
"Soralis?" he touched her arm and she jumped. "It's doing something to you. You shouldn't go in there."  
  
"There's no danger. Not here. Especially here." She amended.  
  
Ardeth scowled, clearly not convinced. She grinned at him. "It's alright Ardeth. Trust me."  
  
"Alright," he said and together they walked into the rock-fall.  
  
***  
  
Both of the stumbled as they entered the cavern. Ardeth had the same sort of fire on ice sensation he had felt when he and Soralis had traveled through the mists that separated the Shadow Realm from the Earth Realm.  
  
Soralis smiled thinly. "You never get used to it. You just learn not to show how it affects you," she said, absently answering his unspoken question.  
  
In the center of the cavern was the throne she had seen in her vision, on it was the same man she had seen earlier. On his right was the balance, Maat; on the left…  
  
"Anubis," Ardeth hissed in recognition. The jackal-headed deity grinned wryly at the mortal.  
  
Soralis bowed. "I have come, father." Soralis told the deity.  
  
"You are most welcome Isisethren," Osiris replied. "As is your companion." Osiris came forward and hugged his daughter.  
  
"I know what you've been through Isisethren," he said softly. "I am very proud of you."  
  
She grinned. "It's Soralis now," she reminded him.  
  
He grinned back. "You shall always be Isisethren to me. No matter how many incarnations you go through or whose daughter you become."  
  
"Why did you call me?" she asked.  
  
He laughed. "You always were rather blunt. I called you here to give you back your past. It's something I believe you will need."  
  
"What past?" she demanded.  
  
Osiris' eyes glowed and she could feel her body crumpling, even as she was swept backwards by a wave of energy.  
  
***  
  
10,000 years ago, Somewhere in Egypt  
  
In a sheltered valley was a beautiful palace; surrounding it were well-kept gardens of every description, fed by a small river that tumbled from a waterfall at the valley's far end.  
  
In one of the palace rooms a younger Osiris paced worriedly. His queen was giving birth. Through heavy gold gilt doors, he could hear Isis' screams, which terminated abruptly. In the next instant, the wails of a newborn filled the air. He burst into the bedchamber.  
  
Supported by thick cushions was Isis, his beloved wife and nestled in her arms was a sleeping, newborn baby. The mid-wife, almost as exhausted as the new mother, grinned at Osiris as she cleaned up the area. "Both of them are well my lord. Congratulations. You have a fine, healthy daughter."  
  
Osiris knelt by his wife. "What shall we call her?" he asked.  
  
"Isisethren," she whispered. He smiled as his wife settled back down, her eyes closing in exhaustion.  
  
7,000 years ago, Giza  
  
Tahmin ducked under the wild swing of her demonic opponent, catching his arm and using the momentum to flip him over her head. She grinned wildly as the Jaffa guard behind her took care of the rest.  
  
"Come on!" she shouted to her followers. "We have to get to the Stargate and bury it before any more get through!"  
  
It was a wild gamble; a desperate one. Ra had ordered her to be wed to Akethros, one of the most vile Ga'ould lords she had ever had the displeasure of meeting. She had refused, knowing full well that she would not survive such an allegiance, leaving her home planet in the hands of a monster.  
  
Beside her, an Anubis guard howled as a bright shaft of light struck it, disintegrating it completely. As they made their way to the Stargate, Tahmin's band of human and non-human warriors shrank from a thousand strong to less than a five hundred.  
  
In the end, her Jaffa warriors fell one by one; giving their human counter- parts the time needed to pull the gate down, cutting the rest of the Akethros soldiers from much needed reinforcements. Tahmin was struck down as the warriors lowered the cap stone into place.  
  
Thebes, 3000 years ago  
  
She was dying. The injuries she had suffered at the hands of Ah-tesu-na were great, too great for the healers to handle. They had made her comfortable, but… Hathor sighed and with great effort turned. Her brother was hunched over her bed, praying. She gripped his hand.  
  
"You must Imhotep." She repeated firmly.  
  
Imhotep looked at his twin. "I can't, you will die." He shook his head vehemently.  
  
She laughed hollowly, gasping as pain wracked her body. She gripped his hand harder, with all the strength she could muster. He gasped as he looked at her fever bright eyes. They were ageless, reflecting the past and future.  
  
"Nothing can stop that brother. Save my son, or Akethros will have won after all." She could feel her body weakening as each moment passed. "Promise me Imhotep!" she whispered hoarsely.  
  
He nodded, tears filling his eyes. "Alright," he murmured as one of the attendants brought a knife, glowing with heat. Hathor grinned wryly as Imhotep kissed her forehead. She closed her eyes, exhaling one last time. A few moments later, a child's wail filled the air as it was lifted from his mother's corpse.  
  
***  
  
Soralis found herself flat on her back with Ardeth peering down at her worriedly. "This is getting tiresome," she croaked as Ardeth helped her up.  
  
Curiously, she found that they were not in the chamber, but on a broken road leading nowhere. "So this isn't normal for you?" he asked mildly, though she could feel the simmering anger behind that mild tone.  
  
She looked around, taking in the view. It was the same as in her dream. Complete to dead moon and dead stars. Soralis shook her head. Deep within, she could feel a tug, a compulsion. She found herself staring down the road. Behind them, the mists pressed close.  
  
"We can't go back Ardeth. This area is ruled by Akethros, the god of torments. If we stay for long in one place, his hounds will catch the scent."  
  
"Can you make it?" he asked.  
  
"I'll have to, won't I?" she grinned at him lopsidedly. Together they began walking down the path.  
  
***  
  
Imhotep looked up, feeling something he hadn't felt in centuries. A change. A feather drifted down out of nowhere, black on white. It hovered in front of him, insubstantial, yet real. He reached out for it and it incandesced, then it was gone.  
  
Maat… he thought. Balance.  
  
Could it be? He wondered.  
  
Something kindled in his heart, a place he thought was long dead.  
  
Hope.  
  
***  
  
Rising out of the mists was a mountainous terrain. The fortress, or what they assumed to be a fortress, was carved out of the living rock; situated high above the path they were on.  
  
"Inviting place," Ardeth commented dryly.  
  
Soralis looked distant. "That's where we need to go," she murmured. Images flickered in her mind. Imhotep. She thought. He was in there. Her brother, her twin. She grimaced. Ardeth wasn't going to be happy about this.  
  
Ardeth looked at her. "You sure?" he asked softly.  
  
"Yes," she replied. He sighed and they began climbing hand over hand up, up towards the fortress. Behind them, they could hear the clear sound of baying hounds.  
  
***  
  
Below them, the clouds roiled with red lightning and the baying sounded closer, ever closer. They were hunched in a small crevice, trying to catch their breath, trying to regain some strength for the final few hundred feet.  
  
"What is it that we're supposed to do here anyway, besides being a target for a fell god?" Ardeth asked as he flexed his injured hand, wincing a little in pain. He was afraid that the burn had split open again. But no, the bandage was still clear of blood.  
  
"Who was the last Harvester of Souls to walk the earth?" she replied.  
  
Ardeth's eyes widened. "Hathor Sit- Isetemkheb, high priestess of Isis." He whispered. "Imhotep's twin!"  
  
"And there has been only one Harvester." She replied.  
  
"We can't rescue him! He will bring about the Armageddon!" He hissed.  
  
"Not this time Ardeth. We will bring him back the right way, with Osiris' blessing. This is what he wants of us Ardeth. If we go up against the Cult of Akethros, we will need Imhotep. I cannot deal with both Audric and Elise alone. Then we have to consider the acolytes, who are more or less magically inclined." She grinned wryly. "Three thousand years is enough punishment. He deserves a chance for atonement."  
  
Ardeth gripped her wrists. "And if he proves traitorous?" he asked her seriously.  
  
"Then parole will be revoked." She replied simply. "Besides, we have no choice,"  
  
"There is that," Ardeth sighed and waited as Soralis leaned out, unsheathing her claws and hooking them into the rock.  
  
***  
  
The last hundred feet was nearly a sheer wall of rock. By then, they had long ago removed their boots as bare feet gave them better purchase on the rock. They went slowly, with Soralis carefully gouging out hand and foot holds with her claws in an otherwise featureless cliff-face.  
  
Finally with one last effort, they pulled themselves up onto solid ground. For several long moments they lay together in a tangled heap, unable to rise, glad to have survived the climb. Soralis frowned as she saw the bandage wrapped around Ardeth's hand was stained red.  
  
"Damn," she breathed. "Ardeth, let me see your hand," she told him.  
  
"It doesn't hurt," he said automatically. Soralis disentangled herself from him and grabbed his wrist. He winced.  
  
"Uh huh," she muttered as she gently unwrapped the bandage. As she suspected, the burn had split open. She calmly ripped a bit of cloth away from her robe and cleaned the hand up, while Ardeth bit his lip to keep from crying out. She quickly ripped a longer strip from her clothing and wrapped it around his hand, trying to be as gentle as possible. "Okay, done."  
  
Ardeth opened his eyes. "Thank you," he said.  
  
They both got up and began exploring the small area they had found themselves in. The two of them discovered that they had climbed up to the back of the fortress, in a little used courtyard. An indifferent trickle of unpleasant smelling water ran through the mouth of a large carving of some demonic entity.  
  
Soralis and Ardeth Bey examined the carving carefully. "Feel that?" Ardeth commented as he held out his hand, testing the breeze that came out of the carving.  
  
Soralis nodded. "It's damp and cold, must lead a fair distance into the fortress." Ardeth nodded in agreement as he took out his scimitar.  
  
"This was your idea," he told her as they cautiously entered the demonic carving's mouth. 


	5. Chapter 5 Well of Souls

Well of Souls

Nothing remains constant. 

                                   From the Harvester's Journal 

Imhotep was escorted to the Akethros' throne room, where the guards shoved him to the ground in front of the hell-god. The foul, boar-headed god gazed at him with a twisted smile on his rotting face. Imhotep shivered. Nothing good ever came of these confrontations.

"Your god has abandoned you little priest. The children of the Nile turn away from your name." Akethros whispered. Imhotep did not reply. He knew better.

"All for the sake of a woman who betrayed you, ran from you when you needed her most." The god laughed delightedly. "Pity. Such a pity."

Imhotep closed his eyes, the memory of that still running in his mind. He calling out for Ack-su-namun's aid, her running away and Nefertiri rushing to save his enemy's life.

"There is a place for you in my service Imhotep; you need not suffer needlessly." Akethros finished.

Imhotep raised his head and winced as a guard shoved the butt of his spear into his neck in warning. "No. Never," he replied quietly. "I will never serve you."

Akethros got up and brutally kicked the fallen priest. Imhotep cried out in pain as the god kicked him again. He felt bones crack with each blow. 

The hell god stood over him, fuming. "I have lost patience with you priest." He looked down at him as he toed the man over onto his back. Imhotep closed his eyes, waiting for more punishment.

"Since you will not serve me, you will spend the rest of eternity in the Well of Souls." Akethros told him viciously.

Imhotep's eyes snapped open. "No," he whispered. 

The Well of Souls was at the heart of Akethros' dungeon. All of the anger, despair and hate centered around that place. It was something like a sinkhole of negative energy. Those who were caught in that trap were subject to phantasms, illusions and hallucinations so real; they could literally kill.

Akethros knelt down. "Oh yes, my slave. You should have accepted my offer. Now it is too late. No one can or will help you now." He stood up and motioned to the guards who stood at a safe distance. "Take him," he ordered. The guards obeyed.

***

"Now where do we go?" Ardeth asked as the stopped. They had followed the tunnel through several twists and turns, carefully marking their way with little runes carved into the wall of the tunnel itself. Yet now, before them the tunnel branched off into three different directions. Every instinct told Ardeth to head back, to get the hell out of this place. It was cursed, evil. 

Soralis looked at him sideways. She could hear the tension in his voice, could feel the apprehension and sense his thoughts clearly. "Relax, they aren't expecting us," she replied. 

She could feel the tug deep within her soul grow stronger. It howled in her mind. She let the compulsion drive her forward, into the third tunnel. Ardeth trailed after her, keeping a worried eye on her and on their back-trail.

***

The passage became wider, the walls sporting hieroglyphics and unpleasant carvings as they progressed deeper into the fortress.

Ardeth frowned as he read the hieroglyphs. Most detailed Akethros' history and his victories. 

He stopped at a particular cartouche depicting strange priests surrounding a slab of cut marble. On it was a woman, with black hair streaked with silver. She was bound hand and foot, with the high priest at her side. 

The scene progressed, ending with the priest completely disemboweling her. He winced. The woman in the picture reminded him strongly of Soralis. He turned to her to comment. 

Her eyes were distant as she stared at cartouche and her expression was strained and angry. "Qysethitol," she whispered. "God of new moon," she blinked and looked at Ardeth.

"You?" he asked as he pointed to the woman in the cartouche. 

"Yes," she replied shortly. "Those were Aztec priests who overran my village and sacrificed my adopted tribe to their gods." She turned and began walking away from the hieroglyphs.

"I'm sorry," he said as he walked by her side.

"I died, they killed me, or so they thought." She told him softly. "A year later I arose from the mass grave they had dug for the victims." 

She looked at him. "I tracked the priests for four years before I killed them all." 

He gripped her wrist with his free hand. "I would have done the same Soralis, any one would have." He replied. "If I could survive being disemboweled that is,"

***

Imhotep was shoved into the filthy cell and he whirled around, only to see his only means of escape slammed shut in his face. One of the guards laughed mirthlessly through the small barred window. 

"Soon the spirits will claim you for their pleasure priest. You should have made the bargain." The guard laughed again as he walked away.

Imhotep turned around, seeing only bare stone walls. He looked up and saw an empty space where a ceiling should be. He blinked; no it was not empty. A foul darkness filled the space, threatening to engulf the small cell. 

His only shield against it was the faint, flickering light that lit the corridor outside his cell. He shivered as he saw the darkness above him boil and twisted dark fingers inch down the walls, engulfing the stone and the floor beneath him.

"NO!" he screamed, falling to his knees as the hallucinations began.

***

Ardeth shoved the guard he had collared against the wall of the passage, while Soralis finished off his companion. "Where is he?" Ardeth hissed.

The guard's laugh was choked off by the knife pressed to his throat. "Where?!" Ardeth repeated.

"You shall die mortal," the guard hissed.

Soralis peered over Ardeth's shoulder. Her eyes were glowing with a bright white light in response to her agitation. "Tell us, where is Imhotep?" she asked softly.

The guard blanched as he saw her. "Isisethren," he murmured.

"Tell us now or you will be the one to die." She replied calmly. Ardeth looked at her in confusion.

"The Well of Souls. He was sentenced to the Well," the guard gasped out and kneed Ardeth in the groin. 

Ardeth went to one knee, eyes filling with tears and he lost his hold on his knife. The guard brushed past the Medjai, reaching for Soralis. He looked at her in surprised shock and fell against the wall, clutching his stomach. Soralis' face was unreadable as the claws extending from her knuckles slowly withdrew. The guard was dead before he hit the ground.

Ardeth looked at her in respect as she helped him to his feet. "Neat trick," he commented as they ran down the corridor. "You know where we're going, right?" he asked.

"The Well Of Souls is always located in the center of the dungeons. Hell gods and demons create them deliberately. Really old prisons and castles have them as well, only they're more or less created by accident." She explained as they made their way to the center of the dungeon complex.

"What are they exactly? I've only heard tales about great evil residing in them." He replied as they ducked into a side corridor to avoid a troop of guards.

"Essentially, they're small sink holes of concentrated negative energy. The energy feeds off the memories and feelings of its victims, making them seem real. Some wells can actually kill their victims, imprisoning their souls forever within its darkness. The older the well, the more powerful it is." She hissed as the final guard passed by. They waited until they could no longer hear those guards before moving on. 

The compulsion, or whatever it was that had lead her to this place, continued, leading them deeper within the fortress, down side passages and into long galleries filled with more carved scenes that grated on the senses. It finally led them into a small tunnel lined with flickering torches. At the end was a metal door with a small barred window. 

They looked into the window, seeing only boiling darkness. _Typical. Imhotep is lost somewhere within that stuff. _She thought as she withdrew a long silvery rope from the robes the Medjai had provided her. 

"What is that?" Ardeth asked as he pointed at the rope. 

"Spider silk and elfin mithral. It's very strong, flexible and has magical properties, " she replied absently as she twined it around her waist. She then handed the end of it to Ardeth who looked at her doubtfully. 

"I should go with you," he told her. She shook her head.

"No Ardeth. I need you here. You've never experienced the hallucinations these wells can inflict. I have. To the unwary, they can kill." She smiled wryly. "I'll tug on the rope three times when I find Imhotep. You'll have to pull us both out because neither of us will be in much condition to get out on our own." 

He touched her cheek. "Be careful," he said.

"Always," she replied and opened the door. He gripped the rope with both hands.


	6. Chapter 6 Hallucinations

HALLUCINATIONS  
  
In order to see the future, you must first know your past and comprehend the present.  
  
From the Harvester's Journal  
  
1.1 "Anck-su-namun help me! Please, help me!" Imhotep watched helplessly as Ack-su-namun turned away from him, vanishing through the portal that led out of the chamber.  
  
1.2  
  
1.3 "Anck-su-namun?" he whispered, heart and hope shattering as the ceiling of the chamber collapsed. Below him the damned souls that belong to Akethros clutched his legs, pulling him down. He glanced at Nefertiri and the reborn Medjai and smiled softly. Their love was truly eternal. He let go, falling into the arms of the damned souls, letting them carry him to Akethros' realm.  
  
***  
  
Soralis stepped into the darkness, calling out her brother's name. The dark spirits converged on her, reaching out with dark fingers to grasp, to harm. A shimmering light enveloped her, seeming to come from deep within. The spirits' grasping hands stopped short, their voices screeching in anger.  
  
She knew the light would not protect her from the hallucinations. The darkness swirled around her, bringing sensations, memories she wished could remain forever trapped in her subconscious.  
  
She watched helplessly as the Aztec warriors destroyed her home, slaughtering her friends and family. She and those who were unlucky enough not to have had the time to kill themselves were rounded up, chained neck and foot and marched back to the hastily constructed temple their conquerors had built.  
  
Around her, in a circle, were twelve youths, chained to stone pillars. She herself had the dubious pleasure of being the main sacrifice, the last to die. She closed her eyes and ears to the sounds of the children being tortured, raped and killed.  
  
As the priests cut out her heart, she could her them laughing. She died, hearing their laughter echoing in her mind.  
  
Soralis stumbled, falling over a prone, nearly naked body. She turned, her eyes picking out the form of a man, huddling on the ground, lost in his own hallucination. She knelt down, gently shaking him.  
  
"Imhotep?" she asked. He didn't respond. "Imhotep!" she tugged three times on the rope and gripped the man's hands as she dragged him out of the cell.  
  
***  
  
Ardeth tugged on the rope with all his strength, propping open the door with his own body. Before him the darkness roiled with energy, as if angry. He was under no illusions; if the lights in the corridor went out, the cell would have not one, but three victims to play with. With a final heave, he caught sight of Soralis within the darkness.  
  
"Don't let go Ardeth!" she shouted. "If the door shuts, we're all finished!" she cried out as she dragged a limp form with her.  
  
Ardeth's entire being rebelled at the sight of Soralis dragging the former priest through the door of the cell. Every instinct he had, made him want to throw the man back into that hellhole and get out.  
  
As she moved out of the cell, he noticed that Soralis' entire body was framed with a shimmering St. Elmo's like fire that seemed to emanate from beneath her skin. When she moved clear with Imhotep in tow, Ardeth slammed the door to the cell shut. He moved towards Soralis and Imhotep.  
  
Soralis took little notice of Ardeth peering over her shoulder as she moved Imhotep onto his back. "Is he alright?" Ardeth asked.  
  
Soralis' eyes narrowed as Imhotep began to moan softly. "No, but he will be."  
  
Imhotep opened his eyes, the blurred image in front of him slowly coalescing into a strange, white-haired woman and a man. He tried to get up when he recognized the tattoos on the man's face. "Med-jai!" he whispered hoarsely. He looked at the woman more closely. She was somehow familiar to him, somehow… "Hathor?" he asked, touching her face in confusion, in wonderment.  
  
"Yes," she grinned at him wryly. "Osiris has given you parole," she told him in his language. "Can you move?"  
  
He thought about it for a precious moment. "Yes," he replied and was even more surprised when the Med-jai chieftain helped him to his feet.  
  
Imhotep turned to Ardeth. "We must leave. The Isisethren cannot fall into Akethros' hands." He looked at Soralis, renewed hope giving him some of his former strength back. "I am sorry if we do not make it out of here,"  
  
She grinned wryly. "This isn't the first hell-hole I've broken out of," she replied as the threesome cautiously walked out of the side tunnel and into the main corridors.  
  
***  
  
Akethros looked up and settled back into his throne. Something tickled his mind, a tremor in the energy fields, barely detectable, yet there. He delicately went over the tremor, studying it. It was subtle and he would not even have noticed it if it was hiding something so large, so obvious. He smiled.  
  
"So, the little spirit-child wants to play," he murmured in great amusement. "Taking that which is not yours isn't nice," he told no one in particular and looked at his second in command, a creature that was slightly less disgusting than its master.  
  
"Imhotep has been set free. Bring him and his companions to me, alive."  
  
His second in command bowed. "As you will my lord. If they resist?"  
  
"Alive my friend. It doesn't matter what condition they are in, as long as they are alive."  
  
The creature, a decayed mummy-like entity that vaguely resembled Imhotep smiled and bowed his way out of the room.  
  
***  
  
Soralis stumbled, pain shooting through her head. The message was loud and clear. "Shit, he knows!" she said hoarsely as her two companions turned to her.  
  
Imhotep visibly paled and Ardeth bit back a few choice words. Soralis turned to her former twin. "Imhotep, do you know anyway out of here? Servant's talk, guard talk, anything?"  
  
He thought a moment and grinned. "Yes, I believe so. If you will follow me,"  
  
As they trailed behind them, hiding from more frequent patrols, Ardeth leaned towards her. "Soralis, we can't trust him!" he whispered.  
  
"We have no choice," she returned. "Besides, we freed him and he owes us."  
  
"She's right," Imhotep's voice carried back to them. "Even enemies can become allies under the right circumstances,"  
  
Ardeth shot a look at Imhotep's back and silently cursed himself. The living dead frequently had heightened senses of hearing.  
  
***  
  
As they progressed further into the fortress, they had to hide more frequently, to avoid the guard's notice. As the threesome hid in an empty storeroom, Imhotep looked speculatively at his "twin". He could see the strain on her face. "Damnit Hathor, what are you doing?!" he hissed his in his ancient tongue.  
  
Ardeth looked at them in confusion. "What are you talking about?"  
  
"She's using some sort of spell to obscure us." Imhotep shot back. "And exhausting herself in the process," he added.  
  
"No choice 'brother'," she replied, not bothering to deny it.  
  
"You'll pay for it later," he said. "Maybe when we need you most."  
  
Soralis drew a hand across her face, as if banishing the exhaustion she was feeling. She looked at Imhotep and Ardeth again and smiled sadly. "And if I let it go, Akethros will have no trouble finding us."  
  
"Point taken," Ardeth replied. "How long can you keep up this spell?" he asked.  
  
"As long as necessary," she lied.  
  
Imhotep looked skeptical. "Right,"  
  
***  
  
Akethros' second grinned as he sensed them approach. There were only a few real paths out of Akethros' realm and he had set some of his best and most powerful creatures to guard it at his master's insistence. This particular path was the hardest and most obscure of all the available paths. He was pleased that they had chosen it.  
  
Ardeth and his team paused at the final turn of the passageway. Both Imhotep and Soralis knew what was waiting for them and Ardeth could guess. Soralis silently handed her "twin", her sword.  
  
He hefted it. It was a light weapon and plain, with a strange curve to it, completely unlike any sword he was used to. "Don't you need it?" he asked.  
  
"Only on special occasions," she replied as sharp, adamantine claws popped out from between her knuckles on each hand. Imhotep stared at them in shock and then at her. She grinned humorlessly as she turned her attention to the passageway in front of them.  
  
"Now," Ardeth hissed as he withdrew his scimitar. They stepped out into the corridor.  
  
***  
  
The guards, with the creature standing in front of them, completely barred the tunnel's exit. The creature smiled as he saw the two males flank the female. This would be entertaining indeed.  
  
"You enter our realm uninvited," he told them conversationally. "We insist that you pay your respects to our lord."  
  
The female smiled slightly. "With regret, we must decline. My father expects us to return to his realm shortly."  
  
The creature pointed to Imhotep. "He is damned. You cannot take him with you."  
  
Ardeth laughed softly. "That has not stopped him from returning before without consent." He looked at the creature speculatively. "Nor has it prevented you from riding along with him,"  
  
"Clever mortal, very clever." The creature laughed. "Still, this cannot be allowed. Our master requests your presence." He pointed to the three fugitives. "Take them alive," the monsters rushed to obey.  
  
They fought, back to back, surrounded by creatures much more powerful than themselves. The three should have fallen under the first assault, yet they did not. They traded blows, killing their opponents by cutting their heads off, as beheading was the only sure way to kill these particular creatures.  
  
The creature stood back, watching the three fight, confident as only one assured of victory could be. Yet he was wrong. One by one, his soldiers fell, falling to dust at his would-be captive's feet. They turned as one, cold-eyed and determined. They were not surprised as the creature turned tail and ran away from them.  
  
"Come on, he'll sound the alarm," Imhotep warned as he started down the passage.  
  
Soralis paused, uncertain. "That was too easy," she murmured. "Something tells me we aren't going to like whatever is down that path."  
  
Ardeth nodded in agreement. "Keep your eyes open," he told her softly as they followed the former priest down the passage.  
  
***  
  
The tunnel abruptly opened out onto a flat plain covered in dark mist. The only path through the plain was a broken, beat-up road that terminated or began at the tunnel's entrance.  
  
Soralis closed her eyes. "The broken road,"  
  
Ardeth nodded "And no one knows where it ends,"  
  
Imhotep smiled briefly. "One of its endings is here. We will find the other." Behind them they could hear the shouts of guards. "Let's go,"  
  
They stepped on the broken road, the mists surrounding them, cutting them off from the guards, leaving only silence. Ardeth glanced back. He saw only the shifting mists pressing in on them. Soralis tugged his arm impatiently.  
  
"We can't stop once we set foot on this road Ardeth. If we do, the mists will swallow us," she told him. The three began walking.  
  
***  
  
The creature bowed on its knees before Akethros. "My lord, forgive me, they are now on the broken road."  
  
Akethros smiled softly. "Good. Then their final defeat will be all the more delicious." He frowned as he felt a particular tingle.  
  
"Go," he looked down at the creature. "Prepare our troops. It will not be long now," the creature bowed its way out of the antechamber.  
  
Before him an indistinct figure formed, coalescing into that of Audric Blackburn. "My lord, what is your will?"  
  
"Go to London, find Nefertiri and her family. Take them to my temple in Xochilnac. They will be the bait for the Harvester." He paused. "We must at least have either Rick O'Connell or his son. If you can not get them all, it will be understandable." He laughed. "We only need one."  
  
"Why must we take the Harvester my lord?" Audric asked quietly.  
  
"She is the daughter of my enemy and she has escaped me too many times. Her power is great and will become greater. I will have that power as my own, as is my right." He snarled.  
  
"She will not serve you willingly," Audric told him.  
  
"As long as she serves me it doesn't matter." Akethros looked down at the kneeling mortal. "Go, do not fail me,"  
  
"As you will, my lord." Audric whispered.  
  
***  
  
Their journey back was terrible, with the path at times becoming no more than an indention in the road, other times so thin, they could only pass sideways, one at a time.  
  
The danger was apparent, the mists themselves seemed alive, only held back by the tenuous bounds of the road itself. Even then, the mists had already swallowed the road behind them.  
  
Somehow, they managed to trace their way back to the crossroads. Somehow they managed to avoid or surpass the broken road. Somehow, they made it. Anubis was waiting patiently for them at the center of the crossroads.  
  
Imhotep and Ardeth bowed before the jackal-headed deity. Soralis frowned slightly. In his hands was the book of the dead. "You now have what you need to defeat Akethros. We have done all we can," he said as he handed her the obsidian bound book.  
  
"Now it is up to you," As she reached for the book, it incandesced, blinding her and the two men flanking her. She fell into the light that was hidden in the book and then into the darkness the light hid.  
  
***  
  
"Is this normal?" Ardeth asked Imhotep worriedly. Soralis had been unconscious for two days after they had escaped Akethros' realm.  
  
The rest of the Medjai had been understandable hostile towards Imhotep and questioned their leader's sanity. Ardeth only shook his head and pointed to Imhotep's wrist. Inscribed in hieratic were Osiris' symbol and the sign of Maat. This silenced most of them. It meant that Imhotep was under a geas to perform some task for Osiris and any attempt to stop him meant doom to those foolish enough to try.  
  
Imhotep bent down beside her pallet, frowning as he saw clear signs of stress, fatigue and overuse of her own magical gifts. When Ardeth told him about his own rescue, Imhotep starting cursing in several languages before calming down. Ardeth looked confused. "What's wrong?"  
  
"She nearly killed herself keeping you alive on that little 'trip' through the Shadow Realm. Dimensional travel is trying enough, but taking an injured individual along with you is suicidal!" he snarled softly. "Then this," he shook his head and looked at Ardeth. "We must keep her from casting any sort of spells for at least a week. Otherwise, she may collapse again."  
  
"Good luck there," Ardeth grinned wryly. "She's very stubborn,"  
  
"Indeed," Imhotep sighed.  
  
***  
  
Soralis slowly regained consciousness, feeling as if something had taken her apart, then put her back together again in no particular order. In other words, she felt like hell. She cracked open an eye and finding it in semi-working order, she cracked open the other, letting wherever she was slowly come into focus.  
  
She was in a tent. In her tent to be exact, or at least the tent the Medjai had provided. She heard a faint movement to her right and turned around. She smiled faintly as she recognized Imhotep sitting cross-legged beside her pallet. He looked like he had been sitting vigil for a while. He silently helped her sit up and passed her a cup of water.  
  
"Thanks," she replied.  
  
"You're a bloody fool," Imhotep hissed, unable to contain himself. "You could have been killed, or taken by Akethros. You should have never come for me."  
  
"I didn't have a choice," Soralis replied softly. "I am the Harvester of Souls. I am bound to protect the living as I stand for the dead and dying." She retorted in the same ancient language he used. "And death isn't an option for me brother."  
  
"What?" he demanded, startled.  
  
"The same metal that makes up those claws you saw in Akethros' realm encases my skeleton in a nearly unbreakable, impenetrable sheath. Nothing can cut it; nothing can melt it. Those who are more knowledgable than I, told me it is a bio-organic adamantine alloy. That prevents my head from being taken. And beheading is the only way to kill what I have become," she hissed.  
  
"And what is it that you have become?" he asked softly.  
  
She looked at the cup in her hand before continuing. "I died more than five hundred years ago. But death couldn't hold me, I came back, changed." She held out her hand, which blurred; white fur covering it briefly, then equally white feathers and finally semi-transparent black scales before shifting back to tanned skin.  
  
"I'm a shape-shifter and immortal or very nearly immortal anyway. I hold earth by Shadowlord law." She finished the cup of water and continued.  
  
"I brought you back because I was allowed to and because I need your help to stop Akethros. I simply don't have the power to do it alone."  
  
"I was under the impression you could defeat entire armies without help," Ardeth replied as he entered the tent.  
  
She smiled slightly. "Do you honestly believe I could be taken by an evil immortal like Shao Kahn if my ability to take souls was controllable?"  
  
Ardeth looked at her unhappily. "You mean you're likely to loose control over it at any moment?" he asked.  
  
Imhotep grinned at him, amused. "Don't be foolish. The gods would not give such a gift to any lesser immortal or mortal creature without some sort of boundaries to it. The only time she is allowed to use it is if some greater god has a task for her that calls for it."  
  
Ardeth sighed. "I'm glad you are awake Soralis. I've spoken with the wise men. They believe that now that we have you two and the book of the dead, the next logical move for Akethros' cult to make is to strike out at Seti's daughter and her family." He looked at Imhotep darkly.  
  
"The O'Connells." Imhotep murmured.  
  
"Correct, we leave for Cairo tonight. A plane will be waiting for us."  
  
This time it was Soralis' turn to be confused. "Question, Who are the O'Connells?" 


	7. Chapter 7 London Trials

London Trials  
  
The shadows are the last choice once both heaven and hell have rejected you.  
  
From the Harvester's Journal  
  
Imhotep looked out of the glass window of the airplane as it flew across the Mediterranean Sea. Soralis was between him and the Med-jai, keeping a relative peace between the two.  
  
"It's all gone isn't it?" he asked her in his own tongue. "The Nubians, the Hittites. Everything I've known is gone. Only the ghosts remain."  
  
She shrugged. "It's been more than three thousand years since you last truly walked, so yes. It is gone brother, but the people are still the same." She replied.  
  
"You've changed," he replied. "You aren't the same woman I knew,"  
  
"I wasn't a Shadowlord then," she said softly.  
  
"True," he replied.  
  
"So, how did you manage to get the royals to inflict homm dai on you?" she asked, catching him off-guard.  
  
"You would ask that, wouldn't you?" he sighed and told her.  
  
When he was finished, she shook her head and winced as an image flickered in her mind. It wavered, solidified into a figure of an Egyptian princess, hauntingly similar to one that had tormented her for several weeks, ages ago. "You boneheaded idiot," she whispered, realization sinking in.  
  
"That woman was a member of Akethros' cult." She told him harshly.  
  
"What?" he looked at her in shock. "Impossible, we wiped them out!"  
  
"They must have smuggled her out before you struck." She murmured, half to herself, half to Imhotep. "Anck-su-namun was some sort of relation to Ah- tesu-na. I saw her often in both her company and the company of Sabef, the high priest."  
  
"How old was she?" he asked, softly,  
  
"Ten maybe eleven," she replied.  
  
He snarled quietly. "She was fourteen when she came to live at the palace as an attendant to the queen."  
  
"They must have planned this for years." Tears burned in his eyes, he blinked them away furiously.  
  
"And longer," she replied softly. "Imhotep, I know you hate the Med-jai and Nefertiri with reason, but part of the deal was to give that hate over. Hating them will only give Akethros power."  
  
"Not an easy thing to do Hathor." He told her, the images of being mummified alive, still as fresh in his mind as if it had happened yesterday. "Not an easy thing at all," he repeated, hands clenching in anger.  
  
She turned his face towards her. "Second chances are never easy brother, screw this up, and you won't get a third. Screw this up and I'll be the one sending you back." She warned and his eyes widened in shock.  
  
"You couldn't!" he hissed.  
  
"I gave my word," She smiled humorlessly. "A Shadowlord never breaks his word. And I will let nothing threaten humanity if I can help it."  
  
He laughed bitterly. "You have changed Hathor, more than you know."  
  
She inclined her head. "As have you,"  
  
He turned back to the window, confused and upset.  
  
***  
  
"Rick, look at this," Evelyn O'Connell called out excitedly as she examined the latest artifacts they had gleaned from the dig site at Thebes.  
  
Rick O'Connell moved over to his wife's side and peered over her shoulder to look at the tablet he couldn't read. "What does it say?" he asked.  
  
"It details the defeat of some sort of cult, by the hands of Imhotep and a group of Med-jai. Apparently, these individuals had killed his sister, the High Priestess of Isis and the wife of one of the Med-jai chieftains." She gently blew the dust away, revealing more of the ornate hieroglyphs.  
  
"Imhotep had a sister?" He asked incredulous.  
  
"A twin in fact. It was a rare occurrence in those days for twins to survive. One or the other usually died before they reached a year old. In most cases, at least one was born stillborn. It was generally considered a good omen for both to survive." She frowned as she read further.  
  
"Hathor was a great seer and healer, it says that she left behind a son when she died, her ashes where cast to the winds…"  
  
"That's odd. Egyptians mummified their dead, especially their honored dead. Hathor was nothing if not honored if I read this correctly." Her brow furrowed in confusion. "This is definitely unusual. Why would they burn her body?"  
  
"Maybe they didn't want her coming back," Rick suggested.  
  
"For what reason? She definitely wasn't evil, diseased, committed no crimes…" She trailed off as she continued to translate.  
  
Rick grinned as he kissed his wife. "Honey, it's ancient history. She ain't the problem her brother was, so why should we worry about it?" he checked his watch. "Damnit, I gotta pick Alex up from the tutor,"  
  
"Rick! Language!" she shot back. He laughed and kissed her again before heading out of the museum.  
  
***  
  
Rick didn't know what hit him. One minute he was driving along a backcountry road to the tutor's home, the next minute, his muscles seized up in a spasm of pain. As he wrestled with the car, he lost control, sending it careening into a tree. He was thrown against the safety harness, knocking the wind out of him. His head cracked against the window, leaving him senseless.  
  
The next thing he could remember were rough, brutal hands dragging him from the wrecked car. He opened blurry eyes to see a man, dressed in slacks and tan shirt peering down at him, grabbing his wrist, the wrist that bore the tattoo. "This is the one."  
  
"What of the boy and the woman?" one of the men holding him asked.  
  
Rick's stomach churned with fear and anger as he began to struggle for all of his considerable worth. They were threatening his wife, his child. They couldn't touch them, not after…  
  
"Shit, he's worse than that other Med-jai!" one of his captor's cursed as he hit Rick with the butt of his rifle. Rick crumpled, loosing consciousness once more.  
  
"Take care of him, he has a concussion. We don't want him dying before it's time." Audric Blackburn warned. "Get Nefertiri and the boy."  
  
***  
  
Soralis raised her head, staring into nothing, seeing everything. Pain, anger and hate flickered across her face as she experienced Rick's capture. "They have him." She stated flatly. The cabdriver looked at her in surprise, she had not spoken for the entire trip. The two Egyptian men flanking her winced. The bearded one spoke rapidly in Arabic. She replied curtly, in the same language and seemed to withdraw into herself.  
  
The trimly bearded man looked at cabdriver. "The museum. If you make it in under ten minutes I'll give you twenty pounds." The cabdriver spun into traffic, flooring it.  
  
Soralis saw all of this take place with a strange detachment as she cast her soul into the sky, forming it into the likeness of an owl. She flew with an owl's silent swiftness, winging her way over the Thames, over tenements and houses the of nobility, towards a small home tucked in a grove of oaks. In it was her target, her son reincarnated into the body of a boy she didn't know.  
  
She flew past the grove's ancient protection with ease, flew into the house, invisible. She screamed as she saw the boy's tutor fighting three armed men, while a third was trying to corner the boy. She became corporeal, became tangible as she launched herself at her son's attacker.  
  
The cultist screamed as a huge, white owl stooped out of nowhere, screaming an owl's battle cry. It stooped, reaching out with razor sharp claws and a wicked beak, ripping into the man's head, laying it open, puncturing the skull. As she mantled her wings, the man fell screaming, fell dying. The other three attacking the man turned towards her. She launched herself towards the closest one, incredibly, impossibly fast.  
  
This cultist too, had little time to react as the huge owl ripped his throat out. The man, finding a second wind ran the poker he was defending himself with into the back of one of the attackers, killing him. Soralis took care of the fourth and last attacker.  
  
She screamed again, triumphantly as she launched herself with powerful wings into the air. The boy cried out as she disappeared as abruptly as she appeared.  
  
Back in the cab Soralis blinked her eyes open and watched silently as they pulled into the museum's parking lot. They clambered out and Ardeth paid the man. Then the three ducked into a side alley, trying to assess the situation.  
  
"How many are in the building Hathor?" Imhotep asked, using her ancient name, refusing to call her by the name she now bore.  
  
"Twenty. In the library are two high level priests and a couple of lesser necromancers. This will not be easy." She told them unnecessarily.  
  
Soralis handed Imhotep the Book Of The Dead and turned towards the locked side entrance. She quickly and expertly picked the locked and motioned them inside.  
  
***  
  
When the cultists burst through the library's door, she was only momentarily startled. Then years of ancient training took over and she fought her attackers, expertly trading blows with men twice her size. She killed one, impaling him on his cohort's sword. Breaking free, she yanked a gun out of another cultist's hand and opened fire on the rest, cleverly weaving in and out of the bookcases. Yet, they kept on coming and she was only one lone woman.  
  
Finally, cornered, with her back to the literal wall, she prepared to go down fighting. Huge, turbaned men crowded her on all sides, swords hemming her in, gun's ready to open fire. Behind them, bodies littered the library, books and shelves torn, shattered. Evelyn O'Connell bravely, fearlessly stood tall; ready to die.  
  
A snarled word in ancient Egyptian echoed in the building and the door to the library crumbled into dust, revealing three people. Evelyn immediately recognized Imhotep. She pressed her back to the wall, thinking that he was the root and cause of this attack.  
  
To her complete and utter surprise, the cultists whirled to confront the three people. Evelyn then recognized the second person, the man on Imhotep's left. "Ardeth?" she whispered.  
  
The third person, she didn't recognize. This person was a tall, white haired woman with gold eyes; dressed in black, complete to black duster. In each hand was what Evelyn assumed was a strange, three-pronged spear. As the dust cleared, she could see that those "spears" were metallic claws extending from the base between each knuckle of her hand.  
  
The cultists charged the two men and woman, ignoring Evelyn. Ardeth leapt into the group of cultists, cutting them down like kindling. Evelyn picked up a sword from a fallen cultist and joined him.  
  
Four of the cultists had surrounded Imhotep and the woman, who stood back to back. Fire, strange creatures, mists and lightening flew between the contestants. Each volley visibly weakened both the cultists and the two in the middle of their circle. One of the cultists cried out as glowing red filaments filled his nostrils, ears and throat, choking him, killing him.  
  
Red lightning struck Imhotep, caging him in a ball of pain. The woman shouted and the red lightning exploded outwards, striking the necromancer, doubling him over. A creature resembling a feathered serpent rose out of the floor, dragging the damned man into the floor, leaving him trapped, cut in two.  
  
Panicked now, the cultists redoubled their efforts. A black mist, shot through with lightning, surrounded both the woman and Imhotep, enveloping them completely, only to be burst apart by glowing things that could not be directly looked at.  
  
The things surrounded the surviving priest and necromancer, who screamed as they struck out, leaving bloody welts behind. The welts themselves darkened, blackened as the cultists began screaming, their wails filling the room as they watched their bodies turn to ash before their eyes.  
  
By that time, Ardeth and Evelyn had taken care of the remaining "ordinary" cultists and watched with grim fascination as the last necromancer crumbled to ash.  
  
"Dear, god." Evelyn breathed out in stunned shock as Imhotep and the woman stepped over the bodies of the magic workers and stood before her and Ardeth.  
  
The woman bowed respectively to Evelyn and turned to Ardeth. "You okay?" she asked.  
  
He nodded. "You two sure don't fool around do you?" he asked lightly, pointing to the fallen cultists.  
  
Imhotep shrugged. "They deserved it," he said his in own tongue and grinned wryly at Evelyn who stood in open-mouthed shock. "Not even a hello?"  
  
"What are you doing here?" she demanded. "And how did he get back?"  
  
"We don't have the time. They have your husband. We must retrieve your boy and go after them before Akethros is set loose," the woman told her. "Do you have a car?"  
  
Evelyn paused. "Yes, I do."  
  
"Good, come on," She and Imhotep turned to leave. Ardeth pulled Evelyn along.  
  
  
  
***  
  
Ardeth quickly explained the situation as Evelyn tore through London, driving straight to the tutor's home. "So, what you are telling me is that this cult wants to open a portal to hell, using my husband's life as the key."  
  
"Correct. Once the portal is open, Akethros' armies will destroy everything in their path, leaving him free to take over." Ardeth was grim. "Soralis is the Isisethren. Osiris let us get Imhotep out of Akethros' hands in order to forestall this."  
  
"Can they be trusted?" She demanded.  
  
"Soralis, yes. Imhotep," Ardeth shrugged. "If he becomes troublesome, he knows his own sister will have to send him back."  
  
"So, this Soralis is also Hathor." Evelyn said dryly as they screeched to a stop in front of the tutor's house.  
  
"Yes," Ardeth said simply.  
  
"What a bloody mess," Evelyn sighed.  
  
***  
  
The man had been in shock. Evy quickly called the police and hustled Alex out into the car before the tutor had time to protest. She knew quite well that the police would delay them and cost them valuable time, time that could be spent trying to rescue her husband before they left England.  
  
Alex was not pleased when he saw Imhotep. He was less pleased when he learned that his father had been kidnapped by a group of cultists bent on taking over the world. Evelyn wanted to leave him with her sister.  
  
Imhotep looked grave. "That is not wise my princess. The cult of Akethros has already tried to take you both. Until we deal with them, he will not be safe here in England or anywhere."  
  
"We can't take him with us! It's too dangerous!" she snarled, glaring at her three companions.  
  
"Hey, don't I get a say in this?" Alex blurted out.  
  
"NO!" Evy shouted.  
  
Soralis spoke. "Both the blood of the Med-jai and the blood of the pharohs run through him." She neglected to mention that Alex was also the reincarnation of her son. "This combination combined with his innocence will make him an irresistible attraction to Akethros' cult. He is far safer with us, than without us."  
  
Evy seemed to deflate. "Alright, but if any harm comes to him, I will hunt you both down and kill you." She glared at both of them.  
  
Soralis smiled briefly. More powerful creatures than Evelyn O'Connell had tried to kill her in the past. Now, thanks to the adamintium symbiont that encased her skeleton, it was nearly impossible to truly kill her. "Very well," she replied. "You have my word as a Shadowlord that no harm will befall your son Evelyn O'Connell."  
  
Evelyn nodded and they quickly piled into the car. Alex elected to ride up front with the people he knew best. He still didn't quite trust Imhotep or Soralis. In truth, both scared him.  
  
***  
  
Rick O'Connell moaned as he opened his eyes. He was blindfolded, his hands cuffed behind his and he could feel some sort of collar circling his neck. Rough hands yanked him out of the car and sent him sprawling onto some sort of tarred road. He picked himself up and he could hear people moving around him. Something leaned over him and he could hear a click as a chain was attached to the collar circling his neck.  
  
"Move!" a harsh voice commanded as it yanked on the chain. He blindly lurched to his feet as it threatened to choke him. He was lead, stumbling up some sort of stairs and into a plane. He knew this by the vibration of the floor under his feet. They strapped him to a chair and told if he tried to escape or made trouble for them, he would be beaten and worse.  
  
"Where are we going?" he asked. "Who are you people?"  
  
Laughter met his question and the breath exploded out of his lungs as somebody punched him, doubling him over in his own seat. "Shut up," the voice commanded.  
  
For once, he wisely did as he was told. 


	8. Chapter 8 Back To The Beginning

Back To The Beginning  
  
You cannot escape your past.  
  
From The Harvester's Journal  
  
"RIIICCKKK!!!!!!" Evy screamed helplessly as the plane soared off, leaving her alone on the runway, her heart torn in two. They had her husband. They had Rick. She fell too her knees, exhausted, shattered. Alex came to her and she embraced him, dry-eyed, beyond tears.  
  
"We'll get dad back, won't we Mum?" he asked.  
  
"Mrs. O'Connell?" the woman, Soralis spoke up. When she didn't respond, she switched to ancient Egyptian. "Nefertiri," she said softly, commandingly. Evy looked up, her face a mask of grief and anger.  
  
"You're husband will be more or less alright. They need him alive in order to complete the ritual on the first new moon of the Aztec year."  
  
"The first new moon?" she echoed as she got up. "That's three weeks from now! There's no telling what they'll do to him!"  
  
Soralis laughed softly. "You and I both know what they'll do to him Nefertiri."  
  
Imhotep smiled bitterly as he joined his sister. "They will take him to their city, the seat of Akethros' power."  
  
"Xochilnac," Soralis finished. "It must be Xochilnac."  
  
"Why?" Alex asked.  
  
"That's where it all began more than five hundred years ago." She looked at the cloudy sky. Snow began falling as they piled into the car. "I need to make arrangements for the trip to Tehuantepec." She said. "We'll need supplies as well."  
  
"I take it that Tehuantepec is the closest city to Xochilnac." Evy stated.  
  
"Yes," Soralis replied. "From there, it will take us roughly a week to get to Xochilnac."  
  
"A week," Evy murmured.  
  
***  
  
Tehuantepec Mexico, a week and a half later…  
  
In the hotel, Soralis sketched a rough circle with a piece of chalk on the bare tile floor of their room. The rest of her companions looked on with interest, as she seemed to go into a trance, murmuring unintelligibly.  
  
"What is she doing?" Evelyn asked Imhotep, having come to terms with him some few days before.  
  
"Summoning an air elemental for information. The circle is more to protect it than to protect us from it."  
  
"So this elemental is harmless right?" Ardeth asked.  
  
"Mostly." Imhotep grinned lightly as something coalesced in the circle.  
  
The creature appeared as a bright sapphire blue lizard with an overlarge cranium and bright darting eyes. Its paws were raccoon-like and it shifted nervously. "Ketric na vesu delan mer?" it squeaked.  
  
"Ular navaneh gabeda aiorith." Soralis said soothingly in whatever language it spoke. The creature relaxed and began to answer her questions. When she was finished, she tossed the creature an apple that had been leftover from dinner. The creature snatched the apple greedily and trilled its thanks. A flare of light and a popping of rushing air marked its departure and Soralis brushed the chalk circle away.  
  
"Well?" Evy asked impatiently.  
  
"According to the Jabarrie, Rick's alive. They've already reached the temple and have gathered the twelve sacrifices that will precede his." She replied.  
  
"Why didn't you just send your soul out like you did when those cultists attacked me?" Alex asked.  
  
She smiled down at him. "Because Akethros knows my aura and that city is the seat of his power. If I tried that stunt, he'd have me." She told him.  
  
"Oh," he replied.  
  
"You'd all best get some sleep. We leave tomorrow." She said.  
  
As she went into her own room, Evy blocked her. "What are our chances Soralis?" she asked.  
  
"Not good. But better than nothing." She replied.  
  
"Why are you doing this? Why are you helping me?" Evy queried.  
  
"Because I can," she replied and closed the door to her room. Evy sighed and turned away.  
  
***  
  
Rick slumped against the wall, exhausted; mind numbed by the horrors he had witnessed over the past two weeks. They had not really hurt him physically, but mentally, he was on the edge. That witch, Elise Blackburn had tried time and again to seduce him, to coerce him into bed with her. He had refused.  
  
This had seemed to enrage her, to give her the excuse she needed to break him. He had been chained to the wall and forced to watch all manner of atrocities, atrocities he wished he could forget. He had been given the bare minimum of food and water necessary to live, but only just. He looked up as the cell door opened.  
  
Elise walked in, flanked by two of her soldiers. He knew that these guys could easily break him in half in the condition he was now in. He pushed himself up and leaned against the wall for support.  
  
"What now? More fun and games?" he asked her sarcastically.  
  
Elise smiled broadly. "So I see you still have a sense of humor. What a pity our time together grows short. In four days time, you will belong to Qysethitol, our god of the new moon and your death will let him and his armies into this world."  
  
Rick laughed humorlessly. "Lady, the only thing that's gonna happen is my wife ripping your throat out. She doesn't like to share."  
  
"Nefertiri?" Elise chuckled darkly. "There is nothing she can do here." She leaned towards him, almost as if to kiss him. "I can offer a few nights of pleasure before the ceremony. There, you will endure both humiliation and pain, before your heart is ripped out. Think on it."  
  
He looked at her in disgust. "I'd rather sleep with a rattlesnake." He hissed.  
  
She blinked, her face clouding with anger. "Then perhaps you would like to enjoy the entertainment we have provided for you." She snapped her fingers and the guards closed in on him.  
  
She shook her head as they clamped manacles on his wrists. "Stupid, stupid Med-jai." She whispered as they shoved him out of the cell. He didn't bother to tell her he wasn't a Med-jai. It wouldn't do any good.  
  
***  
  
Alex stood, leaning over the rail of the boat Soralis had somehow acquired for them. He glanced up, seeing that Imhotep had joined him. The former mummy had changed since the last time Alex had encountered him. He was no longer imperious, though he was still very intimidating. "Hey," Alex said noncommittally. "How much longer till we are there?" he asked.  
  
"Soralis told me about a day more." Imhotep replied, not surprised at how fluent the boy was in a language that hadn't been used in over three thousand years. "Are you alright?" he asked.  
  
"I'm worried about my dad." Alex asked. "I mean, we are gonna get there in time, right?"  
  
Imhotep considered lying to the boy, but decided against it. "I don't know. But you must not lose hope." He said.  
  
"It must be pretty hard for you to do this, after all that's happened to you." Alex told him shrewdly.  
  
Imhotep grinned down at the boy. "More than you can guess." He replied.  
  
Evy sat down next to Ardeth and Soralis who were busy cleaning and checking weapons. "So, what can we expect in Xochilnac?" she asked deceptively calm.  
  
"Cultists, sorcerers, priests and maybe an odd demon or two." She sighted the rifle she was holding and began wiping it down with a rag. "If we're really lucky and don't stop the ritual in time, we'll have to deal with Qysethitol and his bunch of happy go-lucky psychopaths."  
  
"My husband's life is at stake!" Evy snapped. "How can you be so jocular about this?" she demanded.  
  
Soralis sighed and placed the rifle beside her. "Evy I'm scared shitless. I know what will happen if we don't fail. If you do this sort of thing for any length of time, you tend to get a real bent sense of humor or you wind up eating a bullet."  
  
She smiled. "With me, that gets kind of tiresome after awhile." Images danced in her mind, images of her husband and son being slaughtered by Qysethitol's cultists; her body being torn apart. She pushed them away.  
  
Evy looked away. "I'm sorry, it's just. I…"  
  
Ardeth looked at her. "We will get there in time Evelyn."  
  
***  
  
Ardeth looked up, sensing something. The boat was being rocked by something underneath it. "Something is wrong," he whispered, nudging Soralis and Imhotep awake.  
  
The two joined him by the rail of the boat, not desiring to wake the other two members of their team. Something surfaced by the boat, a huge something. Both men jumped back, seeing the crocodile. It was easily big enough to capsize their boat. "Ya Allah." Ardeth whispered. "What,"  
  
"It's nothing," Soralis replied. "It's just a river spirit."  
  
"Friendly?" Imhotep asked softly. In his land, crocodiles were anything but friendly.  
  
Laughter filled their minds. If I were unfriendly I would be eating you right now. The crocodile's voice echoed. We cannot directly interfere in your journey Snow Cat. We can only insure that you reach your destination alive.  
  
"I do not expect the jungle spirits to interfere in a private quarrel my lord. Thank you for insuring our safe-keeping." Soralis replied calmly. "Give my regards to your kinfolk,"  
  
I will. We wish we could do more, but our hands are tied in this. Qysethitol has not won any friends among us, we wish you good fortune. The river spirit slowly submerged.  
  
"Damn…" Soralis murmured softly.  
  
"Problems?" Evy asked sleepily as she joined them.  
  
"Oh nothing. We just had a rather strange visit from a river spirit."  
  
"Which means?" she asked.  
  
"They know we're comin," Soralis replied.  
  
  
  
Xochilnac ruins, the next day….  
  
The five adventures crouched on a ridge overlooking the ruined city in the valley. Most of the temples, huge structures had been toppled by some unknown calamity, only the main temple looked like it was in any kind of shape. Buildings looked like they had exploded from within and once cobbled streets looked like they had been wrenched apart by a giant's hand.  
  
Soralis' looked upon the city she had destroyed for the first time in more than five hundred years. After the city's destruction, she had turned her back to it and left, vowing never to return. Ardeth squeezed her shoulder. "You did this?" he asked.  
  
"I caused it yes. I turned the spirits of their would be victims against their captors. This entire city was composed of only three casts: slaves, nobles and priests. The slaves were fodder for the sacrifices. I simply gave them the power to fight back in the only way I could." Soralis replied.  
  
"You took their souls and let them loose." Evy translated, shocked and horrified by the revelation.  
  
"They would have died horribly anyway." She shrugged. "At least in my way, they died swiftly, painlessly and managed to revenge themselves on their captors. After that, I let them rest."  
  
"How many did you kill?" Alex asked wide-eyed.  
  
"More than enough," Soralis replied flatly.  
  
"Let's go," Imhotep told them. "We don't have much time." He pointed to the sun. "Ra does not wait for us." They all shouldered their packs and slowly made their way into the city.  
  
***  
  
Rick was stripped naked and forced to lie down on the marble slab. Priests in demonic-looking masks shackled his wrists, legs and neck to the stone slab; making it impossible for him to move. He assumed that the priests were wearing masks, but when one of the things smiled at him, he almost screamed. They were real.  
  
He heard the screams of the children as they were shackled to their own upright stone pillars, arranged in a circle around him. He shrank against the stone as Audric Blackburn strode in, surrounded by human and demonic priests. He was holding the Book Of The Living in his hands. The man's cloak looked like a flayed skin. He shuddered when he realized what that skin was from.  
  
On of the demonic priests in Blackburn's entourage bent over Rick and he closed his eyes, waiting for them to begin. The thing laughed lightly as he twisted Rick's wrist around, exposing the tattoo, almost wrenching his arm out of its socket. "He is a warrior for the Powers That Be." The demon rasped. "His soul bears the mark as does his wrist."  
  
"You have promised us a Med-jai. You promised more for your power," the demon hissed as it turned away from Rick. "You promised us the Harvester."  
  
"The Harvester and her companions are in the city now," Audric moved over, handing the Book Of The Living to his daughter, Elise. "She is drawn to the innocent as they die, she cannot stay away. He is the lure and if you want her, you must find her yourself!" he waved to the open skylight above them, which revealed the setting sun. "If we do not complete the ritual by the setting of the new moon, Akethros will not return to our realm."  
  
The demon growled as it turned towards the exit. Fifty of the remaining soldiers and priests followed him. Elise smiled as she moved over to Rick, placing the Book of Life next to the slab. She traced his jawbone delicately as he glared at her. "Do not worry my friend. You will be the last to die," she whispered as she leaned over and kissed him hard, without any subtlety.  
  
"Bitch!" Rick snarled. Elise only laughed as she picked up the Book of Life and moved over to join her father. He tried to close his eyes and ears to the sounds of screaming children and the chants that weaved in and out of those screams. 


	9. Chapt 9 Rescue

Rescue  
  
Demons don't understand subtle.  
  
From the Harvester's Journal  
  
  
  
A ball of fire blasted the wall behind them as Evy and her team scattered. They saw what appeared to be fifty armed humans and demons of various sorts converging in on them. None of them looked very happy with the situation.  
  
"Alex, get down and stay down." Soralis hissed. Alex nodded wide-eyed as he crouched in a darkened alcove. She murmured something and the darkness in the alcove writhed, closing in on the boy, shielding him completely.  
  
"What is that?" Evy hissed, pointing to the darkness that surrounded her boy.  
  
"Not all things in this city follow Akethros," Soralis remarked and stuck her head out, counting at least four priests and five necromancers. The rest were more or less ordinary. If you could call things that topped seven feet ordinary that is.  
  
"Imhotep and I will take care of the magickers. Keep the rest of those things off our backs!" she snarled as she and her brother dashed out, before Evy or Ardeth could protest.  
  
Evy unslung her rifle and as Ardeth began firing off rounds from his beloved Thompson machine gun. Above them, the sky began to boil with power as the ritual inside the main temple progressed. Evy soon joined him, killing demon and human alike.  
  
Soralis snarled as the sorcerer in front of her aimed a bolt of power at her. The bolt shivered and rebounded upon its summoner, staggering him. He looked at her with wide eyes as made hasty gestures in the air. As he did so the solid ground under her became a sticky mire, threatening to engulf her. She countered the spell with harsh words of her own. The mud turned to harmless dust that she threw back at the sorcerer in a whirlwind of sheer power.  
  
Imhotep too, had his hands full, going up against a pair of priests. They attacked him with both spells and weapons. As one made a swing with a strange sword, the other aimed a paralyzing spell at him. He deflected the spell and skewered the sword-wielding priest with a long knife. The other priest backed away, shouting up into the sky. A bolt of lightning cracked down towards Imhotep, only to be knocked aside by the Book Of The Dead, which he held above him like a shield.  
  
And in the temple, the ritual went on. Rick cried silently as the third child was killed, after she had been raped and had strange runes delicately carved into her skin. Then they turned to the fourth terrified child. He prayed for an earthquake, a natural disaster, something. He looked at the open skylight, seeing only the boiling, energy blackened sky above. It was preferable to watching what was going on around him.  
  
***  
  
Alex watched the firefight around him; saw nature run amok above. He wished desperately that he could find his father, that he could stop this. Strange whispers filled his ears, whispers in a language he could not understand.  
  
Glowing eyes stared out at Alex as he saw strange wispy fingers point to the back of the wall. He stared in shocked surprise as the things pulled his hand towards a particular place in the wall.  
  
He jerked backwards in surprise as something pricked the palm of his hand and the wall fell backwards with a dull thud. In the center of the small room it revealed was a long knife carved from pure jade. The handle was that of a plumed serpent.  
  
It's lapis lazuli eyes glinted blue as he picked it up. A small Indian boy stepped out of the shadows, grinning deviously. He placed his finger to his lips and gestured for Alex to follow. Alex cocked his head in bewilderment and smiled slowly, an echo of the other boy's smile. He followed the boy deeper into the room.  
  
***  
  
Soralis winced in pain as an image of Alex wandering deeper into the city, closing in on the temple; following a wraith-like mist flickered in her mind. In his hands was a jade knife, bearing the symbol of the feathered serpent. The cultist she was dueling took advantage of the situation and impaled her.  
  
He pulled his sword free, letting her fall to the ground. The cultist turned around and was taken by surprise as Soralis leapt up and stabbed him from behind with her claws. She in turn let him fall and raced towards the temple, the wound the sword caused already closing over.  
  
***  
  
Evy and Ardeth were fighting back to back, surrounded by cultists. They had already spent the last of their ammunition and were resorting to swords and knives. The cultists kept a wary distance, already too well aware of the duo's skill.  
  
***  
  
Imhotep was torn as he saw his former enemies surrounded by cultists, about to be killed or worse, taken alive. A part of him wanted that to happen, wanted it desperately. These are the people who condemned you to an eternity of suffering. That small hateful voice whispered. He shook his head. No. It was the cult of Akethros who engineered his downfall. Or rather, he let it happen to himself.  
  
Imhotep's eyes hardened as he stepped out into full view of the cultists and cleared his throat. "If anyone is going to kill those two, it will be me." He told them conversationally. Evy and Ardeth's eyes widened.  
  
"I knew it!" Evy yelled in ancient Egyptian. "I knew you would betray us!"  
  
Imhotep smiled coldly at the cultists, ignoring Evy's outburst. "But it won't be today." He made a grabbing motion with one of his hands and then waved the same hand. The cultists' swords flew out of their collective grasp.  
  
He snarled in ancient Egyptian. "You are condemned, followers of the accursed Akethros. May your bodies decay, may your souls rot forever. May Maat turn her back on you in the courts of judgment."  
  
The cultists screamed as the curse took effect. Their skin sloughed away, revealing naked muscles that melted and ran into the dirt, leaving only bare bones that crumpled to dust. Imhotep raised his eyes to meet Evy's.  
  
"Don't presume that this changes anything my princess." He said sarcastically, enjoying the look of shock and horror flicker across her face. He looked at the sky and saw the chaos for what it was. "We have little time. They are about to complete the ritual." He turned his back on them and began running towards the temple.  
  
Evy and Ardeth looked at one another, shrugged and followed Imhotep's lead.  
  
***  
  
As the new moon, the dark moon, rose to its zenith, they finished killing the twelfth child, by raking a sharp knife down the middle of his chest. Rick's eyes were closed and he shook with horror. He opened them as he felt a weight on his chest and saw Elise staring down at him with a wickedly sharp knife in her hands.  
  
She smiled down at his white, strained face. She laughed lightly as she stroked his cheeks with the knife. "I told you would suffer both pain and humiliation, didn't I?" she murmured softly.  
  
"Bitch, you stark raving bitch," Rick whispered hoarsely.  
  
She grinned as she brought the knife down hard on his shoulder. He screamed as blinding hot pain shot through his entire body.  
  
***  
  
Alex heard the scream echo through the silent city. "Dad!" he shouted, hearing that pain-filled cry. The Indian boy in front of him nodded and motioned for him to hurry. Alex had to run to keep up with him. Beneath him, the ground began to shake.  
  
***  
  
Soralis ran up the ruined steps of the temple-pyramid, her legs pumping, her eyes burning. Close behind her were Evy, Ardeth and Imhotep. They saw the slight form of the boy stumbling up the huge pyramid, easily as large as one of the smaller pyramids on the Giza plateau.  
  
Alex reached the top and ducked behind a pillar holding the corpse of a dead child. He could see a lady on top of his father holding a wickedly carved obsidian knife. He clutched his own weapon tightly as she brought the knife down again, slicing his father's shoulder; blood soaking the rough marble slab. His father screamed again.  
  
He heard shouts behind him and he knew that his mother and his companions had followed him, had won. But they would loose everything if Rick died.  
  
"Alex, stay down!" Evy shouted.  
  
Audric grinned as he looked up from the Book of the Living. "You are too late!" he shouted, his eyes wild, deranged. "He is dying! His blood will open the portal!"  
  
Soralis snarled her eyes glowing, her body shimmering as she shifted into a huge bipedal white tiger. She leapt towards Audric, knocking him to the ground. Ardeth saw Elise raise the knife again and howled a wordless cry of rage as he too leapt, knocking her off Rick.  
  
Rick was motionless, unconscious; yet totally aware of what was going on around him. He was floating above his body and witnessed the portal writhe into being. He saw that the portal was still closed and something waited on the other side. He couldn't bear to look at it directly.  
  
He saw Imhotep and old hatred flared in his soul, hatred for the one who caused his wife's death, who kidnapped his son. He watched as the priest shouted, screamed something in Egyptian. He could feel his body shudder, could feel the double wounds close, healing rapidly. He could feel his spirit-self being pulled back to his body.  
  
The portal opened and the sounds of souls in torment, thousands, millions of souls, trapped, begging for release filled the temple as the hell god stepped forth. The earth shook and the already blackened sky turned red.  
  
Soralis looked up and slashed downward, only to be prevented by some unseen force. She was knocked aside by the deranged priest. On the other side of the sacrificial stone table, the same thing happened to Ardeth. Priests rushed to grab the adults, dismissing Alex as a threat. Or perhaps they just couldn't see him. Akethros smiled as Soralis resumed her normal appearance. He bowed mockingly.  
  
"Everything comes to he who waits," he quoted laughingly. "And I have waited thousands of years for this moment." He caught sight of Imhotep who was held by two demonic priests. Another had the Book Of The Dead in one hand. "And you priest, did you honestly believe I would give up such a prize so easily?" he asked as he idly pointed his finger at Soralis and Ardeth.  
  
Soralis felt the spell hit. Pain hit her, doubling her over in the guards' grasp, blinding her with its intensity, and sapping her strength. She could feel herself falling into something black and greasy, even as she tried to counter it. Behind her, in Elise Blackburn's and another guard's grasp, Ardeth too doubled over, almost collapsing as the pain overwhelmed him.  
  
"Stop!" Imhotep shouted.  
  
Alex crept closer, ducking behind another pillar; the knife clutched in his hand began glowing. His eyes were white, without pupil or iris. Somewhere in the back of his mind, something that had been long asleep woke and had taken over. It was strange and frightening to the boy, seeing his body respond to something else, ignoring his own commands.  
  
Though shackled to the slab, Rick could see Alex behind the pillar and his throat closed with fear, fear for his boy, fear for his wife being held between two of Akethros' priests and fear for his best friend being pinned beneath that psycho bitch from hell, Elise.  
  
Akethros strode up to Imhotep and backhanded him. The priest could feel his teeth rattle with the blow. "Do not presume to order me priest." He turned to Evy and smiled, tracing a finger down her cheek. "I believe you will make a fine concubine. I may leave your husband alive to see that."  
  
Evy flushed red, then white. "Get dead, you bastard." She hissed in ancient Egyptian. He laughed lightly and leaned down to kiss her.  
  
***  
  
1 Alex saw the creature come out of the portal and begin teasing, tormenting the others. He tensed as Akethros moved over to his mother and touched her, kissed her. Rage, his own and not his own swept through him, propelling him forward. The boy leapt towards Akethros, ripping open the hell god's legs, nearly hamstringing him.  
  
Akethros screamed in agony, slapping the boy away; slamming him into a stone pillar. Alex slid to the ground unconscious. The spell that held the adults captive broke and they turned on their captors.  
  
Soralis slashed Audric's throat open with her claws and he fell back, dying, his face one of shock and disbelief. Imhotep casually grabbed the two guards by the neck and slammed their heads together as hard as he could. They crumpled to the ground and he went to help Evy deal with her two problems.  
  
Ardeth was cornered by both Elise and her bodyguard. He fought both brilliantly, grabbing the sword out of the guard's hand, killing him and turning on Elise. She screamed enraged, battering him with her own sword.  
  
Somehow, he blocked every blow and pushed her back with his own attacks. Finally, Ardeth saw an opening and killed her, running her through with his own sword. She looked at him in shock, in disbelief as she fell. Ardeth watched her die and turned to deal with the other guards.  
  
Around them, the bodies of the children began to glow with an impossibly bright light as Akethros knelt on the floor, trying to gather his power, to strike back. He frowned; nothing could harm him, yet this boy did. He cursed as he recognized the knife clutched in the boy's hand. "The dagger of Quetzalcoatl," he whispered as his legs began to heal and he crawled towards the boy.  
  
Rick yelled incoherently, straining to free himself, seeing his son being attacked by that monster. Soralis turned, her eyes blazing, fighting her way through a combination of guards and sorcerers.  
  
"AKETHROS!" she thundered as she leapt towards him. He turned, too late to stop her from launching them both through the portal.  
  
Alex rolled to his feet, bruised, knife still in hand. He snarled something in a language no one knew and slashed the portal with the knife. The shifting darkness within the portal turned into a silvery mist and began to close.  
  
Imhotep broke free of the guards and ran up to the portal, knowing it was too late to stop the boy from doing whatever it was he was doing to it. "What have you done?" he demanded, knowing intuitively that the boy was not in control of himself.  
  
Alex laughed softly in a voice not his own. "They are elsewhere," Behind them, Evy and Ardeth dealt with the remaining cultists and moved to free Rick.  
  
***  
  
They tumbled through the portal and felt it tremble. Akethros screamed as the darkness around them shivered, twisting upon itself, tossing them into a mist-like fog that glowed softly. Soralis wrenched herself free and floated in front of him. She was grinning.  
  
"You've lost my lord." She said and laughed.  
  
"Where are we?" he demanded angrily.  
  
"A place that does not tolerate you or your power." Her eyes glowed and the mist-like fog seemed to boil and shapes formed in it, vaguely human shapes that writhed and swirled around them.  
  
"This is the place of beginning and ending. The place where time does not exist. The place where souls await judgment. The place where I hold power." As she spoke, light or energy seemed to boil out from her, surrounding her in a brilliance that made Akethros wince away. Voices began whispering softly around them, inaudible sounds that pricked the hairs on the back of both their necks. "Do you now know where we are?" she whispered.  
  
"Limbo. We are in Limbo." He snarled, gathering his power around him. "You are wrong Isisethren, I have not lost." He pointed at her and black lightning leapt from his finger to her. She smiled and raised her hand and deflected it.  
  
"I speak for the innocent and the dead and mete out justice for those who abuse their power." She looked at him and her expression was terrible, though her voice was mild.  
  
"You have lost Akethros. You lost the moment you tried to kill me, to kill my son. You lost the moment your priests kidnapped me more than three thousand years ago. You disobeyed the law that binds all gods and immortals. You tried to interfere with the balance of power that keeps the Wyrm from our Realms. You are condemned Akethros." The voices grew louder. Other, greater shapes took form behind her, suggesting a court filled with beings of power far beyond either hers of Akethros.  
  
"What is the punishment for this crime?" she asked softly, her form blurring, her clothing shifting into dark robes. Two swords hung from her back, their hafts crossing one another while a white owl flew out of the mists and perched on her left shoulder. Akethros whirled around as he heard a crow caw and ducked as it flew over him and settled on Soralis' right shoulder.  
  
Akethros seemed to shrink back as Soralis took on the form of the Isisethren. The crow's eyes glinted cruelly as it cawed and the owl mantled its wings.  
  
He screamed as silver and gold creatures flew around him, their cries filling the court behind Soralis and nearly deafening him. She looked at him. "You stand judged Akethros, you stand condemned. You are banished from the Earth Realms for all time and you are bound to your own Realm for a thousand years."  
  
Akethros surged towards her, maddened, fighting his way through the creatures that held him back. As he touched her, his hand blackened, withering away. He snarled a curse at her as his body turned to ash and then the ash was sucked away down a dark pit that appeared before her. Then the mist flowed over the pit, sealing it.  
  
She fell to her knees, exhausted, her mind blurring. The owl and raven mantled their wings, flying in circles around her. A touch on her shoulder made her look up, her eyes widened in shock as she saw a man dressed in white standing in front of her. "It's over Isisethren," he said as he held out his hand for her to take.  
  
"Who are you?" she asked.  
  
"Don't you know?" he asked.  
  
He felt old, incredibly old. His age and power rang in her mind. The light around him was vibrant green, yellow and blue as the light around her was gold and silver. "Andrew, the messenger of Death," she replied and laughed bitterly. "Why now after all this time?"  
  
"I lost you. Something tore you away from me as we crossed over." He looked sad. "I couldn't hold on to you."  
  
"My family, my tribe?" she asked.  
  
"Safe, happy." He replied. "All except you,"  
  
"That isn't my fate." She told him. The crow and owl settled on her shoulders.  
  
He looked at them and smiled sadly. "Wisdom and Knowledge have found their mistress and Justice wakes." He said. "I should have realized who you were."  
  
They stood together. "You have a choice Soralis. You can return now, to the Earth Realms or take your place among our ranks once again."  
  
She shook her head. "I hold Earth. I am the only Shadowlord strong enough to hold the Earth Realms against the Wyrm. I am the only one that both the Lords of Light and the Princes of Hell respect."  
  
"That isn't who you are, who you really are," he argued.  
  
"I have to return." She said.  
  
He grinned. "That's what God said, but He had to give you a choice." He hugged her tightly. "If you ever need any of us, we will come." He said.  
  
"Thank you," she replied, returning his hug. The light around them brightened, enveloping them in its brilliance and blinded her with its intensity. The last thing she heard were the combined cries of an owl and raven. 


	10. EPILOGUE

EPILOGUE

**You cannot run from your fate, you cannot run from your destiny. **

**                                                                                                       From the Harvester's Journal**

_Six months later: Somewhere in the Sierra Madres…_ The valley was overgrown with jungle growth; small waterfalls tumbled down the sides of the sheer rocky cliffs. If you knew what to look for, there were signs that the valley had once been inhabited, but most of those signs were buried under centuries of debris. In a small clearing was a six-foot tall obelisk carved from a huge milky white crystal. In front of the crystal was a depression with a jade bowl set in it. In the bowl, a fire burned. 

The one who set the fire knelt before it, crumbling small bits of rosemary and incense in it, praying softly. Imhotep stood a respectful distance away, watching her, knowing that this was the site of her old village, knowing that this marked the gravesite of her family. 

She finished and got up, brushing the dirt from her trousers. She looked at her "twin" and smiled softly. On the ground were the books of the Living and Dead. "We could resurrect them Hathor," he told her.

She shook her head. "No brother. Let them rest. They deserve that much." She moved to pick up the Book of the Living and he bent down to retrieve the Book of the Dead. Together they would hide the priceless books in the valley.

"Will you take Ardeth's offer?" he asked as they walked deeper into the jungle valley. 

"No, I don't think so." She looked at the sky speculatively. "The Medjai have enough problems to deal with. I can't expose them to the Shadow Realm and the enemies I already have."

They made their way to the cliffs and stood before a dark opening in the rock, a natural cave. They gently, reverently placed the books in two small alcoves at the back of the cave and walked out. Then they stood on either side of the opening of the cave and both murmured a spell in ancient Egyptian. The rock shivered and flowed over the opening, sealing the books inside. 

"What will you do now brother?" she asked. "You have atoned for your crimes."

He smiled. "But I am not yet redeemed. I think I shall stay for awhile."

"Fine by me," she laughed. Behind them, two pair of eyes watched as they left the jungle. As the sun set, the owl and crow launched themselves into the air, winging their way elsewhere, following a path only they could see.


End file.
